The World of Poo

a.m. and Geoffrey raced to pick up his jacket and find Widdler’s lead. Sir Harry was standing outside on the top step, smoking a fat cigar and wearing a tall stovepipe hat and a coat with a velvet collar. He greeted Geoffrey with a wide smile and a puff of smoke. ‘Are you ready to see Harry’s world, young man? We’ll walk down to the Linnet Landing today; it’s a lovely morning and it’s no distance.’
     
    ‘Please may I bring Widdler?’ asked Geoffrey hopefully, indicating the little dog, who was wagging his tail expectantly.
    ‘Good name for a dog that,’ said Sir Harry with a laugh. ‘I don’t see why not, but be sure you keep him on a lead. And any little deposit he makes on my property belongs to me, especially if it’s white. The tanners love white,’ he said with a wink.
    As the trio walked up Nonesuch Street Sir Harry kept a close eye on the ground, using his stick to turn over the occasional pile of leaves in the gutter. Off in the distance a boy was assiduously scraping something into a bucket. As they approached, Geoffrey recognized Louis and waved at him. ‘That’s my friend Louis! I helped him collect dog poo in the park. He works for you, doesn’t he?’
    ‘Yes, good lad that, works hard and knows his stuff. He’ll go far. Here, Louis, go back up to number sixty-four, there’s a little white pearl there as bright as a penny. And you know what, it’s got your name on it. Be quick before some other bugger gets it.’
    ‘Thank you, Sir Harry,’ said Louis, disappearing up the road.
    They reached the river where Sir Harry’s boat,
Lady Euphemia
, was moored at the landing. It was a large rowing boat with three liveried oarsmen and a coxswain at the stern. At the bow was a covered area with several seats, and amidships several large steel-lined wooden bins with a collection of nets, hooks and grappling irons alongside. ‘Just in case I see anything along the way I think should be mine,’ said Sir Harry, lighting another cigar.
    They cast off, the coxswain negotiating the craft into the main channel of the river. Sir Harry changed his hat for a nautical peaked cap emblazoned with the word ‘captain’ and a small embroidered anchor. He took the large seat in the centre, all the while looking around to see who and what was floating in his vicinity. There was a bell beside him so he could attract the coxswain’s attention to give him instructions, via a speaking tube, as to any change of course.

    Geoffrey had never travelled in a boat before and to be there with Sir Harry was his best adventure yet. There was a lot to see: the river was very busy with barges and small ferries and water taxis. He reached over and made to dangle his fingers in the brown sludge.
    ‘I’d keep your hands out of the water if I were you,’ warned Sir Harry. ‘Are you enjoying youself?’
    ‘Oh, yes,’ said Geoffrey. ‘At home I don’t get to see anything like this.’
    ‘So what do you do to amuse yourself?’ asked Sir Harry.
    ‘Well, I’ve got lots of toys. I like playing with my soldiers and Papa bought me a Captain Carrot last Hogswatch, though I really wanted the Omnian Quisition game.’
    ‘When I was a lad we had to make our own amusement,’ said Harry. ‘On rainy days if we couldn’t play foot-the-ball and if we were lucky, and in the right place at the right time, we might spot a brace of floaters coming down in the gutters. Oh, we used to have some fun wagering which one would hit the grating first. Like men-o’-war they were, a convoy of pure delight for us kids. We called it poo sticks.’
    As they approached the Ankh Bridge the coxswain shouted, ‘Umbers up, lads.’ The oarsmen, who could not see where they were going, but only where other people had been, without breaking their rhythm pulled up a large tarpaulin canopy over their heads.
    ‘Folks think it’s funny to take a potty shot at me and my boat,’ said Sir Harry. ‘They didn’t laugh so much the day I took a marksman with a crossbow along for the ride. There’s still a few fools that can’t sit comfortably for trying it on with Harry King.’
    He saw the expression on Geoffrey’s face and said, ‘Don’t worry, it was only rock salt. They’ll get better when it works off.’
    They continued downriver, where on either side there were tall warehouses and queues of barges waiting to be unloaded. Large sailing ships were anchored by the wharves, and lighters and other small craft darted to and fro on the