Vol. 1, Issue 19, September 23, 2003
The Aeronautical Cure

There And Back Again

Ezekiel F. Watley, Esq.

I sit once more in my Familiar Office, a very large Drink in one hand and an even larger one in the Other, as I try to make Sense of what I can only conclude was a Remarkable Vacation.

Faithful readers, when Elijah's scrimshaw Eyeball propelled me out the Door in search of Salt Air and Adventure, I did not Anticipate the chain of Events which would allegedly Ensue. I set Sail on a fine Steamship, and gazing one Morn over the Bow, saw that greatest of Sea Beasts: The Ivory Whale, target of my great-uncle's lifelong Quest and traditional Watley Family Nemesis. Beguiled by its gleaming white brow, enticed by the Chance to come closer through this Chance encounter than Elijah ever did, I set forth in a Lifeboat. Alas, the whale Swallowed me and my Boat.

It is Roomier in a Whale than you might imagine, if a bit Odiferous. I floated there some Time in my Boat, reading my Newspaper by the light of my Pipe and taking the occasional Telephonic Call, when abruptly the whale Disgorged me unto a group of Cornishmen passing by on a marvelous Vessel. They brought me back to their Homeland, which I shall never Forget.

That strange Burg where I spent the next Week was remarkable beyond Description. The parish state of Trepanning, somewhere in the green Wilderness of England's Cornwall, defied modern Convention, and so felt strangely Homelike. But it had its Quirks: for one, certain laws of Physics seemed not to be Enforced properly. Also, its Government seemed to operate in Dactylic Hexameters, and the Whisky was surprisingly Weak.

Did I spend a week in an Edwardian village, gently prodding misplaced Dickensian orphans from my way with my Walking Stick? Did I really expound on Haberdasheries for an Hour to a throng of Folk drinking from a bottomless Beer Well? Did I really enjoy the Finest round of Whist I have had in many a Year, and walk away a Winner, leaving angry Pixies in my wake?

I don't know the Answer, faithful Readers, neither do I know how I emerged from the Bathroom last night in my Study with nary an Explanation. Ephram is of the mind that I spent the Week in there; but surely if that had been the Case, I would have heard him Rifling through my Drawers, as he seems to have done. Luckily, he did not find my Scotch Reserve. Ah, youth... They have no Patience.

But I have a most Marvelous Beard-Brush that I didn't have a Week ago, whose Workmanship is Unparalleled. I think I have had enough Vacation, wherever I spent it; and time to get back to my News-Papering, as I see the News has suffered Badly in my absence. Also, I see the gubernatorial Race is heating up, and I have been Remiss in my Candidacy. There is much to Do!

By the way, if anyone knows where I can exchange a "Truro," I seem to have a pocketful of the things.

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