Of Capons and proprietory rights
Thursday, February 6th, 2003 11:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanYestereve, Sproat forsook his usual haunt, the Hang'd Man at Crushton, and spent the evening imbibing best bitter at the Startled Goose over in Little Wittering-in-the-Stubble, and swapping gossip with Belcher, valet and dog's body to Sir Melchett Hedges-Betts.
All is not well, it seems, over there.
The Little Wittering-in-the-Stubble town council is at loggerheads with the parish of Much Grunting-in-the-Wold, the neighbouring hamlet. The issue that is causing so much perturbation and hand-wringing centres upon Farmer Bragard and his unwelcome occupation of the Vole Fanciers' and Maggot-Kneaders' club bowls lawn which abuts his land near the junction of the Biggleston and Crushton roads, directly athwart the two council boundaries.
The poor old Vole Fanciers' and Maggot-Kneaders' club members are the innocent victims in a power play between Farmer Bragard and Councillor Chegwin Heapes-Scorne, club secretary and chairman of the Much Grunting-in-the-Wold parish council planning and sheepdog committee.
It seems the committee after much debate but little evidence, has issued a ban on GM rhubarb trials within its boundaries (it was already a nuclear-free zone, which accounts for the high property prices). And Farmer Bragard, perhaps unwisely, has invested a not inconsiderable sum in GM rhubarb in an attempt to recoup a portion of what he lost during the poached halibut scandal back in ninety-eight (eventually resolved during the so-called 'Muddy Assizes' held in the water meadow as the town hall had mysteriously burnt down. But that's another story).
The upshot is that Farmer Bragard and his combine harvester are occupying the bowling green and planting rhubarb in the herbaceous borders. Farmer Bragard is further rumoured to be contemplating using the green for fattening up capons, and it is this in particular that has the authorities in a froth.
The problem was explained thus, by Belcher to Sproat, sometime around their fifth pint of Poltroon's Auld Boote: the County Poultry Commission has debated the problem and passed a number of resolutions over the past few years condemning Bragard's farming practices. They operate and maintain a no-sale zone at the annual agricultural fair, and offenders, particularly Farmer Bragard, have been black-balled from the Meadow Conservation Association, the prestigious body which regulates the annual turnip and assorted root vegetable prize competition over at Crushton Bingo Hall. The Commission believe this to be enough and have sanctioned no further action.
Unfortunately Councillor Heapes-Scorne is also a member of the Commission and is threatening veto. Additionally he wants to send in the bailiffs. Belcher's master, Sir Melchett supports this line of action, but the remaining members of both councils argue that it is unproven that Farmer Bragard has or is even capable of breeding capons for mass consumption. In the meantime, the majority of regulars (and hence voters) of both the Startled Goose and the Hang'd Man seem to hold to the opinion that it is a bit rum of Councillor Heapes-Scorne to start pointing the finger and acting without the assent of the Poultry Commission since he is both the operator and proprietor of Mrs. Nibbles' Chucky Bits, a rapidly expanding chicken franchise on the Biggleston North by-pass.
With its daintily wrapped boxes of chicken bits and exotically prepared sauces, widely held local opinion is that he is the greater danger to digestive tracts in the area than is Farmer Bragard.
In the meantime, as debate rages on over the morality of sending in the bailiffs, and the members of the Vole Fanciers' and Maggot-Kneaders' club bowls team are yet again prevented from fulfilling league fixtures by the presence of a combine harvester and irate farmer, Bragard has invited the Poultry Commission to send inspectors at their convenience provided that they can give him reliable advance evidence that he is breeding capons.
Yes, it's a rum do, all in all.
Such are the events that vex the quietude of Dimpler Towers.
Marvellous.
All is not well, it seems, over there.
The Little Wittering-in-the-Stubble town council is at loggerheads with the parish of Much Grunting-in-the-Wold, the neighbouring hamlet. The issue that is causing so much perturbation and hand-wringing centres upon Farmer Bragard and his unwelcome occupation of the Vole Fanciers' and Maggot-Kneaders' club bowls lawn which abuts his land near the junction of the Biggleston and Crushton roads, directly athwart the two council boundaries.
The poor old Vole Fanciers' and Maggot-Kneaders' club members are the innocent victims in a power play between Farmer Bragard and Councillor Chegwin Heapes-Scorne, club secretary and chairman of the Much Grunting-in-the-Wold parish council planning and sheepdog committee.
It seems the committee after much debate but little evidence, has issued a ban on GM rhubarb trials within its boundaries (it was already a nuclear-free zone, which accounts for the high property prices). And Farmer Bragard, perhaps unwisely, has invested a not inconsiderable sum in GM rhubarb in an attempt to recoup a portion of what he lost during the poached halibut scandal back in ninety-eight (eventually resolved during the so-called 'Muddy Assizes' held in the water meadow as the town hall had mysteriously burnt down. But that's another story).
The upshot is that Farmer Bragard and his combine harvester are occupying the bowling green and planting rhubarb in the herbaceous borders. Farmer Bragard is further rumoured to be contemplating using the green for fattening up capons, and it is this in particular that has the authorities in a froth.
The problem was explained thus, by Belcher to Sproat, sometime around their fifth pint of Poltroon's Auld Boote: the County Poultry Commission has debated the problem and passed a number of resolutions over the past few years condemning Bragard's farming practices. They operate and maintain a no-sale zone at the annual agricultural fair, and offenders, particularly Farmer Bragard, have been black-balled from the Meadow Conservation Association, the prestigious body which regulates the annual turnip and assorted root vegetable prize competition over at Crushton Bingo Hall. The Commission believe this to be enough and have sanctioned no further action.
Unfortunately Councillor Heapes-Scorne is also a member of the Commission and is threatening veto. Additionally he wants to send in the bailiffs. Belcher's master, Sir Melchett supports this line of action, but the remaining members of both councils argue that it is unproven that Farmer Bragard has or is even capable of breeding capons for mass consumption. In the meantime, the majority of regulars (and hence voters) of both the Startled Goose and the Hang'd Man seem to hold to the opinion that it is a bit rum of Councillor Heapes-Scorne to start pointing the finger and acting without the assent of the Poultry Commission since he is both the operator and proprietor of Mrs. Nibbles' Chucky Bits, a rapidly expanding chicken franchise on the Biggleston North by-pass.
With its daintily wrapped boxes of chicken bits and exotically prepared sauces, widely held local opinion is that he is the greater danger to digestive tracts in the area than is Farmer Bragard.
In the meantime, as debate rages on over the morality of sending in the bailiffs, and the members of the Vole Fanciers' and Maggot-Kneaders' club bowls team are yet again prevented from fulfilling league fixtures by the presence of a combine harvester and irate farmer, Bragard has invited the Poultry Commission to send inspectors at their convenience provided that they can give him reliable advance evidence that he is breeding capons.
Yes, it's a rum do, all in all.
Such are the events that vex the quietude of Dimpler Towers.
Marvellous.