town, moving onward slowly--like some gentle giants that walked
among the houses without noise. What strange things would they
have seen, I wondered, when next they came back to anchor at
Kingsbridge! And, dreaming of the lands I had never seen, I'd
sit on there, watching till they were out of sight.
Three great friends I had in Puddleby in those days. One was Joe,
the mussel-man, who lived in a tiny hut by the edge of the water
under the bridge. This old man was simply marvelous at making
things. I never saw a man so clever with his hands. He used to
mend my toy ships for me which I sailed upon the river; he built
windmills out of packing-cases and barrel-staves; and he could
make the most wonderful kites from old umbrellas.
Joe would sometimes take me in his mussel-boat, and when the tide
was running out we would paddle down the river as far as the edge
of the sea to get mussels and lobsters to sell. And out there on
the cold lonely marshes we would see wild geese flying, and
curlews and redshanks and many other kinds of seabirds that live
among the samfire and the long grass of the great salt fen. And
as we crept up the river in the evening, when the tide had
turned, we would see the lights on Kingsbridge twinkle in the
dusk, reminding us of tea-time and warm fires.
Another friend I had was Matthew Mugg, the cat's-meat-man. He was
a funny old person with a bad squint. He looked rather awful but
he was really quite nice to talk to. He knew everybody in
Puddleby; and he knew all the dogs and all the cats. In those
times being a cat's-meat-man was a regular business. And you
could see one nearly any day going through the streets with a
wooden tray full of pieces of meat stuck on skewers crying,
"Meat! M-E-A-T!" People paid him to give this meat to their cats
and dogs instead of feeding them on dog-biscuits or the scraps
from the table.
I enjoyed going round with old Matthew and seeing the cats and
dogs come running to the garden-gates whenever they heard his
call. Sometimes he let me give the meat to the animals myself;
and I thought this was great fun. He knew a lot about dogs and
he would tell me the names of the different kinds as we went
through the town. He had several dogs of his own; one, a whippet,
was a very fast runner, and Matthew used to win prizes with her
at the Saturday coursing races; another, a terrier, was a fine
ratter. The cat's-meat-man used to make a business of
rat-catching for the millers and farmers as well as his other
trade of selling cat's-meat.
My third great friend was Luke the Hermit. But of him I will
tell you more later on.
