Oxhill News

www.oxhill.com / www.oxhill.org.uk

South Warwickshire, England.

The Oxhill News

September 2006

This months News



The Scarecrow

“That scarecrow moved!” squeaked Amelia.

“Don't be silly,” said her friend Mary dismissively.

“I am telling you it moved!”

The friends had been strolling through the village of Oxhill enjoying the scarecrow festival.  They had marvelled at the variety of exhibits.  They had seen a witch flying on a broomstick, a ladies' tea party; a marvellous baptism in the church and Harry Potter.  There had been over a hundred scarecrows, many of them drinking beer or wine looking very life like.  All of them made out of straw.  It had been a truly fascinating afternoon.

Amelia clutched her friend's arm.  “It really did move.  I tell you it winked at me.”

Mary looked closely at the object of Amelia's attention.  It was a scarecrow that was sitting on a deck chair reading a newspaper.  It would not have looked out of place at Henley Regatta.  It was wearing a white shirt and trousers.  It had a red and green striped blazer and on its head was a Panama hat.  Its round face had been made out of a disposable paper plate.  It’s true the face had been drawn with a certain amount of flair, but it still looked like a scarecrow.  The eyes were very blue, wide and staring.

“How can those eyes, that have been drawn on a plate, move?”

“Well they did.  You stand here and watch.”

“I have no intention of standing here waiting for a paper face to move.  Come on.  I am getting cold and I want to go home,” said Mary, walking away from the scene.

The cool summer breeze rustled the newspaper that had been fastened in the scarecrow's white-gloved hands.  “Before you go,” said the scarecrow, “would you please turn over this page.  I am so fed up with reading about 'What's on Television Tonight'.”

Amelia was stunned.  She had a great desire to follow her friend, but she was drawn into doing what he had asked of her.  Feeling very foolish she walked over to where he was sitting.  She hoped nobody would see her.  The newspaper had been pegged onto his hands.

“This is very kind of you,” he said as she unpinned the paper.

“Would the sports page suit you better?”

“Yes please,” he said eagerly.

She quickly rearranged the paper and was fixing it back when she was startled by a woman's voice behind her.

“Why are you doing that?”

“Well,” Amelia answered lamely, “I just felt sorry for him sitting looking at the same page all day.”

She did not want to admit that she had been in conversation with a scarecrow.

The elderly woman asked in a gentle voice, “He spoke to you, didn't he?”

Amelia nodded her head reluctantly.

“I thought so,” said the old lady.  “ I thought I was going mad when he first spoke to me.  You see in order to make the scarecrow look right, I dressed it up in my son Edward's old clothes.  He died a year ago………….”

M.P. (via Jill Eastaugh)

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Last modified: October 03, 2006