JOE KENNEDY once said when the shoe-shine boys start giving you stock tips, it’s time to get out of the market.
In the recollection of his school contemporaries, John was the brightest boy in his year. He had the world at his feet—could have been Governor of the Bank of England back in the day—but all he ever wanted was to be a scrap dealer, which just goes to show how bright he really is.
Like farmers, scrappies have a habit of looking dog-eared, but when did you last meet one on his uppers? One of life’s little pleasures used to be the wad of notes bulging in the pocket after rocking up at John’s yard with a load of old iron or lead. All declared to Her Majesty in due course, naturally, but, for the time being, that rare sensation of a fistful of readies.
The Fun Police have lately removed that pleasure: scrap dealers can no longer use cash. However, it’s still a pleasure to go for a blether with John. On my latest visit, he was shaking his head and looking grim. Metal prices are behaving bearishly, it seems. He didn’t think it augured well for the markets. Time to go liquid.
I hoped this might distract him from noticing my dog wasn’t on board when I went back over the weighbridge, but, no, he’s too fly for that.
Denne historien er fra August 08, 2018-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Denne historien er fra August 08, 2018-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
Allerede abonnent? Logg på
Kitchen garden cook - Apples
'Sweet and crisp, apples are the epitome of autumn flavour'
The original Mr Rochester
Three classic houses in North Yorkshire have come to the market; the owner of one inspired Charlotte Brontë to write Jane Eyre
Get it write
Desks, once akin to instruments of torture for scribes, have become cherished repositories of memories and secrets. Matthew Dennison charts their evolution
'Sloes hath ben my food'
A possible paint for the Picts and a definite culprit in tea fraud, the cheek-suckingly sour sloe's spiritual home is indisputably in gin, says John Wright
Souvenirs of greatness
FOR many years, some large boxes have been stored and forgotten in the dark recesses of the garage. Unpacked last week, the contents turned out to be pots: some, perhaps, nearing a century old—dense terracotta, of interesting provenance.
Plants for plants' sake
The garden at Hergest Croft, Herefordshire The home of Edward Banks The Banks family is synonymous with an extraordinary collection of trees and shrubs, many of which are presents from distinguished friends, garnered over two centuries. Be prepared to be amazed, says Charles Quest-Ritson
Capturing the castle
Seventy years after Christian Dior’s last fashion show in Scotland, the brand returned under creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri for a celebratory event honouring local craftsmanship, the beauty of the land and the Auld Alliance, explains Kim Parker
Nature's own cathedral
Our tallest native tree 'most lovely of all', the stately beech creates a shaded environment that few plants can survive. John Lewis-Stempel ventures into the enchanted woods
All that money could buy
A new book explores the lost riches of London's grand houses. Its author, Steven Brindle, looks at the residences of plutocrats built by the nouveaux riches of the late-Victorian and Edwardian ages
In with the old
Diamonds are meant to sparkle in candlelight, but many now gather dust in jewellery boxes. To wear them today, we may need to reimagine them, as Hetty Lintell discovers with her grandmother's jewellery
