The Parable of Burke and Hare - page two

As we walked amongst the headstones, I could not help wondering how many of the poor departed souls had been locals who had succumbed to the wily charms of the churchwarden. Though their demise may have been ignominious and possibly premature, it was probably a contented one.

At this juncture, I would like to publicly disassociate myself from a certain remark that was made as we climbed over the wall into the field. Having made the remark, the person who uttered it felt some degree of shame. Because of this atonement I will respect the person's wish for anonymity - it was John.

As he looked at a freshly prepared grave this nameless person said: "There's bits of pottery in that spoil heap. I bet there's a good chance of finding some coins amongst that lot."

Well, what could I say? I sat astride the wall and raised my eyes towards Heaven, waiting for the expected bolt of lightning. When it did not come to pass, I whispered: "Even God has a sense of humour."

Having climbed over the wall, we sat with our backs against it as we sorted out our equipment. All around us was the first signs of the rebirth of nature after her winter sleep. Catkins hung limply from slender branches. Snowdrops gingerly poked their heads above the surface, looking to see whether winter had finally gone before bursting into bloom. Wild Garlic stretched out its leaves to embrace the sun's warmth. Newborn Lambs, all ears and legs, struggled to adapt to their sudden, new environment. We felt privileged to be observers of that wonderful re-creation.

It was a perfect day for detecting. Within a few minutes I had uncovered several pieces of bronze dross, denoting that the field had an air of antiquity about it. This was confirmed a few moments later when I found a small fibula and a fragment of bronze with a face on it. Feeling elated by the early success, I anticipated a good day's hunting - at the end of which, John and I were to receive a rather nasty shock!

The next hour produced a varied array of finds: two silver hammered, a cut half, three spindle whorls and what I believed to be half of a square headed Saxon brooch.

I noticed that John had been bending low at the knees on quite a few occasions. It was either for the express purpose of digging for finds, or he was having trouble with his Y-fronts. Out of curiosity, I made my way to the other side of the field.

He showed me two medieval horse pendants he had found. We were later to discover that one of them had the coat of arms of the Earl of Hereford on it.

As we discussed our finds, our conversation was rudely interrupted by a sound that I can only describe as being akin to the mating call of the Lesser Spotted Fen Warbler: "Coo wee. Coo wee."

"Hell fire, it's the churchwarden, John. Go and see what she wants."
"Like hell I will, you go."
"Okay, we'll both go then."
"Coward."