Gerald Durrell - Rosy Is My Relative

“Mr. Pucklehammer,” he called.

Mr. Pucklehammer came into the box, beamed at Adrian and made gestures of encouragement. He took the oath and gave the closest attention to Sir Magnus.

“I believe, Mr. Pucklehammer,” said Sir Magnus, “that you were with the defendant Rookwhistle on the day when he took delivery of the elephant.”

“Yes, I was,” said Mr Pucklehammer. “He brought it down to my yard.”

“Your yard?’ said Sir Magnus. “What is your occupation exactly?”

“I am a coffin maker and carpenter,” said Mr. Pucklehammer.

“So then, your yard would presumably be full of all the accoutrements of your trade?”

“What was that again, sir?” said Mr Pucklehammer.

“Was your yard full of coffins and similar items of carpentry?” said Sir Magnus.

“Yes,” said Mr. Pucklehammer.

“I have often wondered,” said the judge, “how they manage to make coffins that shape.”

“I am sure, my lord,” said Sir Magnus smoothly, “that Mr. Pucklehammer would be delighted to give you a practical demonstration of this at the end of the proceedings.”

“Most kind,” said the judge.

“Now you say,” Sir Magnus went on, “that the elephant Rosy was brought into your yard. During the time she was there, two days I believe it to be, what was her demeanour?”

“Bread, mostly,” said Mr. Pucklehammer “Then we found she liked vegetables as well.”

“No, no,” said Sir Magnus “What was her behaviour like?”

“Wonderful,” said Mr. Pucklehammer enthusiastically. “She’s a lovely animal.”

“So she didn’t cause you any distress while she stayed in your yard?”

“None whatsoever,” said Mr. Pucklehammer. “Good as gold she was. Helpful too. She helped Adrian wash the trap down.”

“Wash the trap down what?” enquired the judge.

“Well, we were cleaning the trap, see, sir, and so Rosy squirted water on it with her trunk.”

“Extraordinary,” said the judge. “Have you ever in your experience, Sir Magnus, come across an elephant washing down a trap?”

“No, my lord, I can’t say that I have,” said Sir Magnus, “but I believe them to be immensely sagacious beasts.”

“Extraordinary,” said the judge again. “Pray continue.”

“So, during the whole two days she was in your yard, she did no damage to you or to your property?” said Sir Magnus.

“None at all,” said Mr. Pucklehammer determinedly. “I told you, she’s as timid as a mouse. Rosy’d never hurt anybody deliberately.”

“Thank you,” said Sir Magnus. He glanced at Sir Augustus interrogatively, but Sir Augustus, who hid not known about the Pucklehammer episode, was at a slight loss as to how to cross-examine, go he merely shook his head mournfully.

“Ca1l,” said Sir Magnus, “Emily Nelly Delilah Trickletrot.”

“Who the hell’s that?” whispered Adrian.

“Black Nell,” said Sir Magnus.

Black Nell, like a chirpy moth-eaten little bird, climbed into the witness-box and peered over the edge of it with some difficulty.

“I understand,” said Sir Magnus, “that you encountered the defendant Rookwhistle and his elephant when you were on your way to Tuttlepenny Fair.”

“That’s right,” said Black Nell.

“Now, you are by trade a fortune-teller?” enquired Sir Magnus.

“Witch,” said Black Nell.

A rustle immediately ran through the court. The jury gave her their absolutely undivided attention.

“Witch?” said the judge.

“Yes, your honour,” said Black Nell. “I am a white witch. Black Nell’s me name.”

“I find this very confusing,” said the judge, looking at Sir Magnus. “Would you like to elucidate?”

“Certainly, my lord. There are apparently two forms of witches. The black kind who do evil deeds or are reputed to do evil deeds, and the white ones who do good deeds. This lady is a white witch and during the course of her witchcraft the also tells fortunes.”

“Do you use a crystal ball?” enquired the judge.

“Sometimes,” said Black Nell. “Not always though.”

“I had one once,” said the judge musingly, “but I could never see anything in it.”

“It’s a question of concentration,” said Black Nell. “You should try it in a diamond ring some time.”

“Diamond ring? Really?” said the judge. “I must try that.”

“May I continue, my lord?” enquired Sir Magnus with a long-suffering air.

“By all means, by all means,” said the judge.

“Now, when you met the defendant and his elephant, what happened?”

“I was asleep, see,” said Black Nell, “and suddenly my whole caravan started to shake.”

“We now appear to be suffering from a surfeit of wheeled vehicles,” said the judge. “This caravan has not appeared before, has it?”

“No,” said Sir Magnus. “It is the caravan belonging to the witness.”

“Why was it shaking?” enquired the judge.

“Because the elephant was scratching herself against it,” said Black Nell.

“Do elephants scratch themselves against caravans?” the judge asked Sir Magnus.

“I believe, my lord, that all pachyderms, if they find a suitably abrasive surface, will ease any minor skin irritation by rubbing themselves against it,” said Sir Magnus.

“We are certainly learning a lot about elephants,” said the judge with satisfaction. “Well, go on.”

“When you finally came out of your caravan,” said Sir Magnus, “did the elephant attack you?”

“Lord bless us, no,” said Black Nell. “Tame as a rabbit she was. We all sat down and had breakfast together.”

“So she did no damage to your caravan, nor did she attempt in any way to harm you?”

“No,” said Black Nell. “That creature wouldn’t harm a fly.”

“Thank you,” said Sir Magnus, and again glanced at Sir Augustus.

But Sir Augustus was feeling that he was liable to get bogged down in a lot of irrelevant details about witchcraft and again refused to cross-examine.

“Will you now call,” said Sir Magnus, “Peregrine Filigree.”

Mr. Filigree, wreathed in smiles, undulated his way into the court and wedged himself with a certain amount of difficulty into the witness-box.

“Hello, Adrian,” he shouted, waving a fat hand. “How’s it going?”

The judge peered at him. “Mr. Filigree,” he said, “I would be grateful if you would confine yourself to giving evidence and not carry on an exchange of saucy badinage with the defendant.”

“I am sorry, your lordship,” said Mr. Filigree, chastened. The clerk of the court held out the Bible for him to take the oath.

“You haven’t by any chance got a prayer wheel, have you?”

‘What’s that?” said the judge.

“A prayer wheel, my lord,” said Sir Magnus. “I believe it to be something that is used quite extensively in Tibet and similar places where Buddhism is the basic religion.”

“What do you want a prayer wheel for?” asked the judge.

“Because,” said Mr. Filigree, “I am a Buddhist.”

“I don’t really think, Sir Magnus,” said the judge, “that we can expect the clerk of the court to go running around at this late date in order to find a prayer wheel. I am not altogether sure that it would be legal either.”

“Perhaps, Mr. Filigree,” said Sir Magnus, “you would be kind enough to take the oath on the Bible, and pretend that it is a prayer wheel.”

“Very well,” said Mr. Filigree. “If it’s going to be of any help to you.”

“Now,” said the judge, “perhaps we can proceed.”

“Mr. Filigree,” said Sir Magnus, “on the night of the 29th April the defendant, Adrian Rookwhistle, and his elephant arrived at the Unicorn and Harp, a hostelry which you and your daughter run?”