The Colour of Time - Part 9

 

'Who is that with you, Dora of Wye?'

The guardian's voice was a furious thunder this time. His open mouth showed sharp and dangerous teeth. And his wings had turned into two snake-like extra-heads hissing at each other as Dora now stood before him with a little possible new friend girl of hers.

'She is a kitchen aid from the tavern in the street where my grandmother lives,' Dora tried to explain, 'and she didn't want to believe me that I was going to visit the Temple. So I brought her with me.'

'This is not how it works, Dora of Wye.' All three heads of the guardian now gave her stern looks. 'You cannot give away our secrets that easily. And you still have got so much to learn.'

The next moment Dora found the kitchen aid ran away and after agreeing silently that Gold was not the colour herself standing in the streets of the City of Earth again.

'Locust Valley, Locust Valley,' Bromford mumbled, 'we shouldn't be here. We should be in the City of Earth. I feel a connection. And the connection is not to Locust Valley.'

'But the show must go on,' the llama said and started clapping and stamping another song.

"Medley: The Recruiting Sergeant / The Rocky Road To Bromford / The Galway Races"

The Recruiting Sergeant

As I was walking down the road
A feeling fine and larky oh
A recruiting sergeant came up to me
Says he, "You'd look fine in khaki, oh"
"For the king, he is in need of men
Come read this proclamation, oh
A life in Flanders for you then
Would be a fine vacation, oh"

"That may be so," says I to him
"But tell me, sergeant dearie-oh
If I had a pack stuck upon my back
Would I look fine and cheerie oh?
For they'd have you train and drill until
They had you one of the Frenchies, oh
It may be warm in Flanders
But it's draughty in the trenches, oh"

The sergeant smiled and winked his eye
His smile was most provoking, oh
He twiddled and twirled his wee mustache
Says he, "You're only joking, oh
For the sandbags are so warm and high
The wind you won't feel blowing, oh
Well, I winked at a cailin passing by
Says I, "What if it's snowing, oh?"

Come rain or hail or wind or snow
I'm not going out to Flanders, oh
There's fighting in Bromford to be done
Let your sergeants and your commanders go
Let Englishmen fight English wars
It's nearly time they started, oh
I saluted the sergeant a very good night
And there and then we parted, oh

The Rocky Road to Bromford

The Galway Races

As I went down to Galway Town to seek for recreation
On the seventeenth of August, me mind being elevated
There were passengers assembled with their tickets at the station
Me eyes began to dazzle and they off to see the races

With me wack fol the do fol
The diddle idle ay

There were passengers from Limerick and passengers from Nenagh
The boys of Connemara and the Clare unmarried maidens
There were people from Cork City who were loyal, true and faithful
Brought home the Fenian prisoners from dying in foreign nations

With me wack fol the do fol
The diddle idle ay

And it's there you'll see the pipers and the fiddlers competing
The sporting wheel of fortune and the four and twenty quarters
There's others without scruple, pelting wattles at poor Maggie
And her father well-contented and he gazing at his daughter

With me wack fol the do fol
The diddle idle ay

With me wack fol the do fol
The diddle idle ay

And it's there you'll see the jockeys and they mounted on so stably
The pink, the blue, the orange, and green, the colors of our nation
The time it came for starting, all the horses seemed impatient
Their feet they hardly touched the ground, the speed was so amazing

With me wack fol the do fol
The diddle idle ay

There was half a million people there of all denominations
The Catholic, the Protestant, the Jew, the Presbyterian
Yet there was no animosity, no matter what persuasion
But fáilte hospitality inducing fresh acquaintance

With me wack fol the do fol
The diddle idle ay

Today is Tuesday, the 9th of December 2025.