The World of Poo (Discworld 39.50)

Grand-mama came to the door as they arrived back home. ‘That is most kind of you, Sir Harry,’ she said, when Sir Harry proposed tomorrow’s outing. ‘I know Geoffrey has become very interested in your enterprise while he has been staying here in Ankh-Morpork, and as his visit’s coming to an end it’s a very good opportunity for him. Geoffrey, I think you probably need to take your new acquisitions into your museum, don’t you? And emphatically refrain from leaving them anywhere in the house,’ she added, her nose twitching in distaste. ‘And while you’re there ask Plain Old Humphrey to help you wash out your pockets with Doctor Painforth’s Hygienic Restorative.’

1 Working at night, gongers or gongfermors are sometimes known as ‘night-men’. It requires a steady hand, nerves of steel and the sense of smell of a turnip to do this job, although the rewards can be great: just consider what may be lost down a privy at night with the only light a candle flame guttering in the wind. I mean, who’s going to notice if a locket has gone or even a ring slipped from a cold finger in those conditions? Where there’s muck there’s brass, as they used to say, or even better than brass, if you’re lucky.

2 Harry King smoked cigars all the time, apparently, but given the way he earned his

money, the acrid cigar smoke probably counted as fresh air.

3 Hippos really are the most dangerous of animals, and at both ends. Not only can they move very quickly to close their jaws on the unwary swimmer, but they can go on to spray any unfortunate onlooker with poo by whirling their tails like propellers as they excrete. Zoologists would say that this is behaviour designed to mark their territory. The author thinks that it is one of nature’s more interesting jokes.

AN ADVENTURE WITH SIR HARRY KING

THE DOORBELL RANG at 9 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 scummy, barely moving water. Occasionally, a warning shout of ‘Watch out below’ was to be heard as the stevedores scurried over a ship like ants. Suddenly Sir Harry leapt to his feet. ‘By Offler’s tooth, lad, we’ve got a couple,’ he cried, pointing out a pair of floaters. ‘Look, there, I’ll bet you a dollar to a penny that the one nearer the bank will hit that wall first.’

With a practised eye they both studied the movement of their movements in the current.

‘Ah, well, I reckon that one’s yours, lad; I’ll settle up with you later. And thank you very much for letting an old man revisit his boyhood for a while.’

As they rowed through the ancient portal of the River Gate, Sir Harry was hailed by a group of watchmen who were huddled smoking in the lee of one of the old battlements. ‘Any chance of an extra pick-up, Sir Harry?’ one of them shouted. ‘Trap four is full and some of the lads had a Klatchian last night.’

‘What? I’m the bloody boss, ain’t I,’ said Harry, angrily. ‘There’s one of my lighters along in about fifteen minutes, they’ll help you out.’

Outside the city walls the view changed to ramshackle sheds and old farmhouses, reedy swamps and a tow-path. ‘Not far now,’ said Sir Harry. ‘You can just see the top of my biggest heap, over there.’

Geoffrey looked afresh at what he’d taken to be a small hill in the distance. As they drew nearer he could see smoke rising, and the general miasma of smells grew much more concentrated. They came to what looked like a small city of shacks and lean-tos. ‘I let some of my workers live there free,’ said Sir Harry. ‘It means they’re always willing to make an effort and squeeze out the last drop, so to speak, and they’re never late for work.’