I Seem To Have Spent A Good

At Times It Seemed Unfair That I Should Be Paid For My Work; For Driving Out In The Early Morning With The Fields Glittering Under The First Pale Sunshine And The Wisps Of Mist Still Hanging On The High Tops.

If A Farmer Calls Me To A Sick Animal, He Couldn't Care Less If I Were George Bernard Shaw.

I Am Never At My Best In The Early Morning, Especially A Cold Morning In The Yorkshire Spring With A Piercing March Wind Sweeping Down From The Fells, Finding Its Way Inside My Clothing, Nipping At My Nose And Ears.

I Could Do Terrible Things To People Who Dump Unwanted Animals By The Roadside.

For Years I Used To Bore My Wife Over Lunch With Stories About Funny Incidents.