``I never told you, did I, how I started barking like a dog?'' He was so old now. Who knows what he thought he remembered?
``Started barking like a dog out of pure craziness,'' he said.
``I was a thatcher's lad in them days. Worked the summers with Ted Cletheringham, thatching ricks. Got sent off in October. There wasn't work. Nothing. No dole in them days either. There was a lot of us hungry that winter, and we'd meet together and talk but there was nothing we could do. No money you see. So there was twenty of us in the three villages that met together each day and the police would move us on because we made them nervous. We never did nothing. Didn't hardly steal though we might take a rabbit and cook it out in the fields but that's the worst we'd do and now I don't understand how that could be.''
He coughed and dragged on his cigarette and stared at the TV without seeing.
``We'd been talking around about how we could go to Canada or Australia, but we knew we couldn't. Couldn't get the money together. Couldn't do nothing. That's when I started to bark. Just started barking and soon all twenty of us was barking and we hid out in the fields and behind walls and we barked day and night for days on end. Seemed like we barked a month or more until the people were going crazy from listening to us.
When they sent out a special squad to catch us I tried to stop and damn me but I couldn't. Couldn't stop barking for nothing. Couldn't talk. None of us could. We just kept on barking. They caught three dogs before they caught a one of us, but in the end they got us all and took us up to Stratton and for me it took six weeks before I stopped barking. They say I was the first to stop.
They say Wilfred Smith is up there still. Still barking. Barking mad. I'd go join him gladly but my barking days are over,'' He coughed into his ancient hand, ``I ain't got the lungs for it no more,'' he said.