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Many people are now eagerly awaiting the third season of Poldark where the film-makers will be covering one and one-half fo the novels written in the 1970s: The Black Moon and The Four Swans.

So in anticipation although (I'll be away with my two daughters this weekend) I've no time to post on Caturday (Saturday).

Some weeks ago now I came across a photo of a cat and poem by Winston Graham, the author of these now famous 12 novels, which strengthen my idea that one of the smaller pleasures of the Poldark novels is Graham's love of animals, as seen in Demelza's early argument against cock-fighting, and her general behavior towards all sorts of animals, naming them, taking their presence into account (and that of other characters) now and again:

Don't plant me next to Mrs. Robinson,
I never got along with her too well.
Put me in a spot

Where the sun is nice and hot

And right out of earshot of that damned

. church bell.

Don't thank the doctor, Dr. Faversham.
He on
ly paid me visits four or five.

The result was quite appalling

For the object of his calling,

Which he hardly seemed to realise, was

keeping me alive.

See to my cat, Mr. Molotov.

Fill him up with liver and with lights.
A chair by the fire

Is something he'll require,

And don't allow him 'Out on windy nights.
Send a billet doux to the Chancellor
There's nothing for his old oak chest.

I gave my children two

All a decent man could do

And have taken special care to spend the


Call on the parson, Mr. Pakenham.

I'm sorry there's a sinner 'On his roll.
You might give him a prod

To get a word with God

And have a bit of mercy on a poor old

This photo of a cat accompanied the verses; both published by the Kensington Press, 1970, in a collection called Just for Animals by M. Raymond Hawkins:

Well now the text and picture and idea are not as obscure as they once were.  Many thanks to Jim Dring, I recommend reading his whole website.

Miss Drake

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