The Tale of Mr. Jeremy Hunt by Botox Potter

THE TALE OF MR. JEREMY HUNT

 by Botox Potter

[For the average Joe.]

 Once upon a time there was an MP called Mr. Jeremy Hunt; he lived in a little, damp common house on the Millbank at the edge of a big river.

 The water was all slippy-sloppy in the lobby, the chambers and in the back passage.

 But Mr. Jeremy liked getting his feet wet; nobody ever scolded him, and he never caught a cold!

 He was quite pleased when he looked out and saw Wapping drops of rain, splashing in the river whilst the Sun shone ever so brightly--

 "I will get some maggots and go fishing and catch a Liberal dish of minnows for my dinner," said Mr. Jeremy Hunt. "If I catch more than five sprats, I will invite my friends Mr. Cameron Ptolemy Tortoise and Sir Osborne Algernon Otter. Mr Cameron, however, eats only greens. Sir Osborne is very greedy and will always take more than enough of his fair share."

 Mr. Jeremy put on a Barbour wax jacket, and a pair of shiny galoshes; he took his rod and basket, and set off with enormous hops to the place where he kept his boat.

 The boat was bland and grey, and very like the other lily-livered leaves in the Westminster waters. It was tied to a cheap publicity stunt on the extreme right of the river.

 Mr. Jeremy took an opinion poll, and pushed the boat out into open water. "I know a good place for lying about and catching minnows," said Mr. Jeremy Hunt.

 Mr. Jeremy stuck his pole into the tabloid sludge and fastened the boat to it.

 Then he settled himself cross- legged and arranged his tackle. He had the dearest little blue float. His rod was made of smug schtick, his line was a long auburn horse-hair, and he tied a little wriggling worm  of a civil servant to the end.

 The rain trickled down his back, and for nearly an hour he stared at the float.

 "This is getting tiresome, I think I should like some lunch," said Mr. Jeremy Hunt.

 He punted back again amongst the water-plants, and took some lunch out of his basket.

 "I will eat a butterfly sandwich, and wait till the shower is over," said Mr. Jeremy Hunt.

 A great big left winged water-beetle came up underneath the lily leaf and tweaked the toe of one of his galoshes.

 Mr. Jeremy crossed his legs up shorter, out of reach, and went on eating his sandwich.

 Once or twice something moved about with a rustle and a splash amongst the rushes at the side of the river.

 "I trust that is not Rupert and Rebekah the Rats, " said Mr. Jeremy Hunt; "I think I had better get away from here."

 Mr. Jeremy shoved the boat out again a little way, and dropped in the bait. There was a bite almost directly; the float gave a tremendous bobbit!

 "A minnow! a minnow! I have him by the nose!" cried Mr. Jeremy Hunt, jerking up his rod.

 But what a horrible surprise! Instead of a smooth fat minnow, Mr. Jeremy landed little Leveson Lurch, the stickleback, covered with spines!

 The stickleback floundered about the boat, pricking and snapping until he was quite out of breath. Then he jumped back into the water never to be seen again.

 And a shoal of other little public fishes put their heads out, and laughed at Mr. Jeremy Hunt.

 And while Mr. Jeremy sat disconsolately on the edge of his boat--sucking his sore fingers and peering down into the water--a MUCH worse thing happened; a really FRIGHTFUL thing it would have been, if Mr. Jeremy had not been wearing a Barbour wax jacket!

 A great big enormous Dilnot Dogfish came up--ker-pflop-p-p-p! with a splash-- and it seized Mr. Jeremy with a snap, "Ow! Ow! Ow!"--and then it turned and dived down to the bottom of the river!

 But the dogfish was so displeased with the taste of the Barbour wax jacket, that in less than half a minute it spat him out again; and the only thing it swallowed was Mr. Jeremy's galoshes and a little pride.

 Mr. Jeremy bounced up to the surface of the water, like a champagne cork and the bubbles from a crystal flute; and he swam with all his might to the edge of the river.

 He scrambled out onto the Millbank and he hopped home across the meadow with his Barbour wax jacket and reputation all in tatters.

 "What a mercy that was not a Nurse Shark!" said Mr. Jeremy Hunt. "I have lost my rod and basket; but it does not much matter, for I am sure I should never have dared to go fishing again!"

 He put some sticking plaster on his fingers, and his friends both came to dinner.

 Sir Osborne Algernon Otter wore his black and gold thread waistcoat.  And Mr. Cameron Ptolemy Tortoise brought a salad with him in a Fortnum and Mason bag.

 He could not offer them fish, but he had something else in his larder. And instead of a nice dish of minnows, they had raw baby artichoke hearts with sweet lady-bird sauce, which slimy Conservative politicians consider a beautiful treat; but I think it must have been nasty!

...probably to be continued...