The World of Poo

Geoffrey, and that is at the Royal College of Heralds. They’ve rebuilt most of it since the fire but it’s a strange old place. You’ll have a job getting in there: you’ve got to be nobby before they’ll even answer the door. Apart from sirs and lords, the only other person I know who can get in is Doughnut Jimmy the vet. He looks after our animals and was called in there to look at their wyvern only last week.’
    ‘Thank you very much for helping me, Mister Pontoon,’ said Geoffrey.
    ‘My pleasure, young man, and it’s made a nice change for young Gus. I’ll get him to pack up your specimens and we’ll put them on top of the carriage because I don’t suppose your Grand-mama will want to travel with that lot inside.’

    ‘I think we should go and have our picnic in the park; it’s a bit smelly in here, Geoffrey,’ said Grand-mama after they had said their farewells.
    And so they walked across a large area of lawn and trees, and under one particular tree Geoffrey saw a rather elderly and portly man sitting on a small stool. He was wearing a keeper’s hat but Geoffrey couldn’t see any animals. Geoffrey edged closer and very politely asked the keeper what he was keeping. ‘My job, young sir,’ said the man, ‘is of fundamental importance in this whole menagerie, because I, young sir, am the Re-Director.’
    ‘The Re-Director?’ said Geoffrey. ‘That sounds very important. What do you re-direct?’
    At Geoffrey’s feet and stretching for quite some distance was a thin stone trough filled with greenish water. ‘That,’ said the old keeper, ‘is one of the greatest achievements in engineering by the late and some would say unlamented B. S. Johnson, engineer, architect and scholar. And that, young sir, is the most unusual and peculiar fish stream in the entire world.’
    Geoffrey stood on the edge of the narrow strip and saw a shape in the depths below, slowly moving towards him.
    ‘Stand back now, young sir,’ said the keeper, rising to his feet as the shape drew near to where he was sitting.
    ‘This re-directing requires years of experience.’ He picked up off the grass a most peculiar object. It was a large net, quite narrow but with a long and sturdy handle. It fitted perfectly into the channel and with a great effort the keeper plunged the net into the water, levered forth a very large, rectangular fish and then, stepping over the trough and turning hubwards, he placed the fish, this time facing the other way, back into the stream. He heaved the dripping net over his shoulder, lit his pipe and walked slowly to the other end of the stream where there was another small canvas stool with a parasol attached.
     
    ‘How often do you have to do this?’ Geoffrey asked the back of the receding figure.
    ‘Forty-eight and a half times a day, young sir.’
    ‘What is the half time?’ asked Geoffrey.
    ‘Well, the fish and me aren’t getting any younger and so sometimes we just goes halfway. And once a week,’ said the keeper, ‘I do a bit of cleaning out after the fish has done his business.’
    ‘So where do you put the business?’ asked Geoffrey.
    ‘Ah, well, young sir, fish business is not as useful for gardeners as most businesses are, but if you look carefully when you walk away, you will see the trees behind my chairs are slightly bigger than the rest of the trees in the park.’
    Before he went to bed that evening Geoffrey carefully put a piece of fruit cake that he’d managed to smuggle up from the kitchen on the windowsill for Old Pediment the gargoyle.
    1 It is suspected that gargoyles are, in fact, a type of troll. Over the years of their exposure to the abnormal magical activity that always surrounds Unseen University they have evolved into mobile and sentient beings. Their diet is varied but the emphasis now is on pigeons. Their alimentary tract, which is a complex U-shaped organ, was originally designed for the digestion of a watery mineral diet that entered the body through the ears. The solids were filtered and digested in the usual fashion while the liquid was extracted and expelled through the mouth. The recent change in food source has resulted in their ears becoming vestigial, and a small and isolated loop of intestine between the ears and throat, not unlike the human appendix, is all that remains. Another result of this change in diet is their ability to move their jaws and even close their mouths, making it much easier to have a conversation with them. Saying