Wales is a long way from New York,
where the Cardiff giant hoax (a trick not lost on P.T. Barnum) was perpetrated
years ago. Our Butler, 6’-11” tall Glassshard
Bainwarble, hails from Cardiff the former.
We don’t always understand his ways.
He has been busily building a canvas enclosure on top of his camper in
the alley. I expected it was some kind
of beer garden where he could quaff and trumpet to his heart’s content, hidden
from the neighbors.
He
told us today that he wants to bring his girlfriend, Siobhan, for a visit. She would stay on the second floor of his
(now) two-story camper. He says not to
worry, she has her own health care. Siobhan, which by Gaelic linguistic magic
is approximately pronounced Shivawn, used to be a steamfitter, but now
assembles automobiles. We couldn’t wait
to get a look at the girlfriend of our Cardiff giant.
Presently
Siobhan arrived, but we didn’t see her for days—Bainwarble, we thought, was
being shy. Meanwhile, neighbors, lots of
them, took to walking the alley. Crowds
of guys loitered in lawn chairs. Something
was up!
Then we met her—a ginger haired Miss
Ireland of a thing who looked like if she ever did any steam fitting, it was done
by batting her eyelashes. She explained
that with automotive robots, it was all programming and buttons, and she was
very good with buttons.
"Bless my buttons," I told Ducky Bumps. "Cardiff seems to be the very
seat of surprises."
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