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Now Uncle Harry, me old Uncle, who’d been a scallywag I’d say, told outlandish stories to us kids and we became his perfect prey. For he’d see our eyes wide open as we took in every word, believing everything he said without a thought of the absurd. But kids grow up and so I did and Uncle Harry he grew old. He still tells his yarns to all of us who will listen to them told. Of course these days I realize his yarns are tall that I see through, and here is one that’s bloody tall yet Uncle Harry claimed it’s true. He often said Aunt Mary, and him had lived a life that’s hard, but now they’re rich with heaps of ‘dough’ - thanks to ‘Armaguard’. He tried telling coppers what they found and where the ‘dough’ was hid, but the coppers laughed and walked away, leaving fifty thousand quid. Uncle Harry took me back a month or so to his anniversary, of sixty years that they’d been wed; Uncle Harry and Aunt Mary. How they’d been childhood sweethearts, meeting in their days at school, so they thought that they should reminisce where they learnt the golden rule. They held hands in the quadrangle then Uncle Harry rang the bell. Aunt Mary touched the blackboard where she first learnt to spell. They found the desk once shared by them and lifted up the lid, where ‘I love you Mary’s’ carved on it - that Uncle Harry did. Then walking home still hand in hand; speaking of their schooling days. A truck from Armaguard drove up behind, full of company pays, but as it passed a door swung back, and then upon the street, a bag of money tumbled out and rolled up to their feet. Aunt Mary picked it up; looked around, and hid it underneath her blouse. Without a second thought she scurried home, telling Harry that ‘it’s ours!’ They counted out the ‘dough’ in hundreds; there was fifty thousand quid, then Aunt Mary asked the question - “Where should the ‘dough’ be hid?” The conscience of Uncle Harry was a blight that’s running rife, for his thoughts were not on thieving so he mentioned to his wife - “We can’t keep this; it isn’t ours, so the money must all be returned”. But Aunt Mary’s having none of this - she reckoned it’s been earned. So she shoved it through the manhole and beneath some hessian sacks. But money lost of this proportion, as so often soon attracts a questionnaire from coppers who go knocking door to door, while explaining to the neighbourhood just what they’re looking for. When Uncle Harry put his hands up; Aunt Mary denied everything, and so a ‘blue’ broke out between them and the accusations fling. Harry said the cash is in the roof - Aunt Mary said he’s going senile, so the coppers stood between them in their refereeing style. They realized in a shouting match, there is no hope of winning. Then facing Harry one cop said “Let’s start from the beginning”, then turned his back and walked away; with “You flamin’ dippy fool!” When Uncle Harry said, “Well, Mary and I, were walking home from school -”
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