The Rabbit of Usk is always fond of donning his Deerstalker, firing up his briar pipe and exploring the possibilities however improbable, and there's a mystery in the Vegetable Garden. Someone ate the Parsley. Not just a polite nibble, but the entire plant. Nor was the Parsley something like a seedling, it was maturing, healthy, happy Parsley about the size of two fists. It's cruel and it's selfish and it's very mean, and without beating about the bush it's the sort of behavior that calls down fire and brimstone followed by some kind of public execution such as hanging, drawing and quartering. In short I know exactly how Chief Justice Tindal, Sir James Parke and Sir John Williams felt when they sentenced The Chartists and John Frost in particular. All the same, I believe it was Sir John Williams who may have also sat on the bench of justice at the trial of the Tolpuddle Martyrs, whose leader was a Methodist preacher called George Lovelass, author of a Union Hymn, "..speak a Tyrant faction's doom, we will, we will, we will be free." He was on his way to a penal colony in place called Australia when he wrote the poem.
Granted passions here are high, the Parsley root stock is still intact and has
been relocated to an undisclosed location where exhortations are being made to
the Great Oneness to grant some kind of full recovery so the world might walk on
as it was and as it should be for ever more, amen. Meanwhile there is a hunt for
the culprit, it's more of a mental hunt than it is an active rushing about with
lethal weapons hunt, but nonetheless it's a hunt. Of the many possibilities, two
spring to mind immediately. The Vole and the Bunny Rabbit. My own judgment falls
in favor of the Community of Vole as guilty party, they're kind of hungry for
particular fresh greens at the moment and they're breeding like flies which
calls upon their reserves of trace elements which Parsley contains a wide
variety of. But it must have been a nerve-rackingly large Vole with vitamin
deficiency to have done such damage. Possible too there's a Friendly Society of
Voles, a Combination, a Union of Voles, but good to know that if there is such a
phenomena, Voles are in my book agricultural workers which would make them
Oddfellows, and it could be that Parsley is the mead of their Oddfellows' Lodge.
Yes indeed, "..we come our county's rights to save."