Cat and Fiddle – Joyce Janes

Hey diddle diddle

They say the cat is from India.  I don’t know if that’s true, there certainly is an air of mystery about him that cats round here don’t have.  His fur is like velvet the colour of Chicken Tikka Marsalla with a hint of yoghurt on the end of his paws and tip of his tail that gives him a look of the east.  Some say he has been up there for years wandering high on the moors above Buxton.

Whatever, he is a lively fellow and can play a merry tune.

Hey diddle diddle

We all thought the fiddle might be a Stradivarius but no, his were made from spruce, willow and maple.  This fiddle is made of good old English oak worn and polished by years of use.  In the hands of an expert this fiddle can break your heart with his soulful music.  At other times he makes your feet tap and your legs jiggle uncontrollably, can make you dance until you can’t dance another step.  He can play tunes to make your heart sing out with the joy of being alive.

Of course I did say that is what the fiddle can do in the hands of an expert!  If you or I tried to play him the fiddle would scrape and scream as if his life depended on getting away from you.

The fiddle was as mysterious as the cat, no one saw him arrive high on the moor above Buxton, he just did.

Hey diddle diddle

Farmers John’s cow was a strange beast.  The old man bought Daisy, for that was her name, at Bakewell market one Monday afternoon.  She was the last cow in the auction, Farmer John was late and had missed all the others so it was Daisy he saw and Daisy he got.  He hadn’t a clue what he was taking on, the old fool that he is.  When he put her in the field that night he assumed she would still be there the next day.  Well you would wouldn’t you?  He didn’t know she was Daisy the daring, Daisy the dangerous, Daisy the cow that could jump as high as the moon.  The following morning Farmer John stood in an empty field.  Daisy had vanished, escaped, vamoosed!   He never discovered what happened to her.

The truth was Daisy had jumped over the wall and galloped off into the sunset, which, it so happened, took her high on the moor above Buxton.  The night Daisy escaped it was a full moon and she could see exactly where she was going.  She never forgot a kindness and became great friends with the moon from that day on.

Hey diddle diddle

In the middle of the night when the moon is full the moor becomes a land of shimmering, liquid silver.  He is bright and sparkly but mysterious and spooky all at the same time, it is then he is at his best.

When clouds scud across his face the moon scowls and grows dim and shady but on a cold clear night he sweeps across the sky lighting stars along the way when he crosses the dark mysterious moor.   As he moves his crystal brilliance wisps away the scary to replace it with serene beauty.  This is what happens when the moon smiles high on the moor above Buxton.

Hey diddle diddle

The little dog is quite a character.  He thinks everything is funny and laughs at all he sees high on the moor above Buxton.  The dog truly is the happiest little fellow you are ever likely to meet.  That is all I need to say about him but trust me he is such good fun you would want him to be your friend.

Hey diddle diddle

The dish is made of Ashford marble, he is very grand.   He started life as a piece of granite mined then transported to a mill on the river Wye just outside the village.   He was hacked and chopped and carved, he was ground and filed and polished until finally he emerged from his dull grey transformed into glistening black.  Sleek and elegant he really is a cut above the rest.

It is a mystery how he ended up high on the moors above Buxton and for a long time dish was dismayed to have found himself abandoned and alone.

Hey diddle diddle

She is only a spoon.  A foreigner too also from the east though not as far as India, no, she is a Sheffield spoon.  She is made of Sheffield plate, worn bits where the silver has rubbed off, old and well used, but with a figure to die for and in her own way is still beautiful.  They met high on the moor above Buxton dish took one look at her and was lost, they were destined to be together.

Hey diddle diddle

What a crew, what a curious tale,

The Indian cat, exotic, fur like velvet plays the old oak fiddle their tunes fill the night air.

Daisy leaps to visit her old friend and they look down on the mysterious silver-blue landscape by the light of the sparkly moon.

Laughing the little dog enjoys the fun, he always does, he is such a happy fellow. Whilst the sleek, elegant dish snuggles up to his very own Sheffield silver cuddles up, with his beautiful spoon.

Hey diddle diddle

And all this happens high on the moor above Buxton

On a moor near the Cat & Fiddle.


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