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Back in Wagga Wagga, circa 1960, there was a loquat tree in the garden,
until Daddy Layton discovered that the relevant authorities had declared it was
fruit-fly attracting. So, he introduced me to his newfangled chainsaw. Like, I'd
been itching to get my paws on it anyway. Daddy offered me five bob to saw the
tree down, cut it up and put it on the wood heap for winter firewood.
I performed all this to perfection, cleaned the chainsaw and fronted
Poppa-san for my five bob, but Daddyo had further plans. "You grub out the stump
and I'll hit you with ten bob," he says.
"Good as done, easy, Dad!" I replies. Easy, my big mouth! Three
hours later I've got the thumping stump removed and Dad hits me with fifteen
bob. Onya, Dad!!
A few weeks later, Dad sends me down the road, replete with chainsaw, to an
elderly widow's place to remove another loquat tree. Fairly easy job, except I
kept slipping on the fallen, rotting fruit. Thankfully, Mrs Aubrey didn't want
the stump grubbed out. She invited me in for afternoon tea. I could have stood a
few cold beers, but as Mrs Aubrey was a member of the local Temperance League,
it was tea and scones.
What's this got to do with birds? Well, over to Mrs Aubry.
"Johnny, when the little Silvereyes pecked at the fallen loquats they
fluttered about in a most peculiar fashion. I do believe my little birds became
inebriated on the fermenting juices of the fallen loquat fruits."
"Yeah, Mrs Aubrey, you mean to say the Silvereyes were getting pissed?" I
started to say, but demurred. See, I reckon it would have been untoward of me to
venture such a risqué _expression_ in front of a Wagga Wagga Temperance League
lady.
Anyhow, I've heard of parrots getting as pissed - sorry - I mean as
inebriated as parrots - on fermenting nectar, but there we had a case of
Silvereyes getting pie-eyed on fermenting loquats.
John Layton.
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