Read Fillets of Plaice, by Gerald Durrell for Free Online Page B

water find it and sometimes they don't,” said Larry. “This
kyrios
sometimes finds money in people's beards and sometimes does not. He was lucky that you have a good mayor here and that he found money. He found nearly nine thousand drachmas. Now, because he is a good man and a kind man, he has agreed not to charge his normal fee.”
    There was an “ah” of pleasure, mixed with incomprehension at such generosity, from the crowd.
    “But there is one thing he would ask you as a favour,” said Larry; “that the mayor spends this money for the good of the whole village.”
    This was the point where the mayor looked extremely glum and the crowd applauded.
    “Because,” said Larry oratorically, having consumed vast quantities of wine, and getting into stride, “when you find money, as when you find water, it should belong to everyone.”
    The applause was so great that the few words the mayor mumbled were completely lost in it.
    “I think, you know, perhaps now is the time to go,” said Theedore, “on a high note, as it were.”
    We marched down the village street with the entire crowd following us, all of them jostling to pat Mactavish on the back or shake his hand. And so by the time we reached the jetty Mactavish was beginning to feel that he was the Mountie to end all Mounties and it had been well worth the loss of fifteen pounds to have this adulation. In fact, our take-off was delayed for some minutes because the mayor insisted on kissing him on both checks and embracing him, whereupon all the other elders of the village had to do the same.
    At last he joined us on board, flushed with success.
    “I told you, didn't I?” he said, “it's just a matter of knowing how to deal with primitive people.”
    “Well, that's the last village on this coast that I'm going to visit, and as it's my birthday I feel that somebody ought to take my wishes into consideration,” said Mother.
    “But of course, Muzzer dear,” said Max. “We vill now find you a nice place to eat.”
    The anchor was pulled in, the engine was started, and above the reverberating chug-chug-chug of the engine we could hear the villagers shouting good wishes and clapping as we headed on our way down the coast.
    At lunch time we found an enchanting long beach of soft white sand and as Taki, the previous evening, had put his lines out and caught some
kefalia
, Spiro built a charcoal fire on the beach and grilled these delicious fish.
    Sven, Donald and Max, still worried by the fact that they had nothing concrete to give Mother for her birthday, concocted a sort of entertainment for her. Sven, who was a sculptor, constructed an enormous nude woman out of damp sand, which Mother was forced to admire, and he then played his accordion for her, fortunately not choosing Bach but playing quite gay and sprightly tunes.
    Donald and Max went into a huddle and presently they consulted in a secretive manner with Sven, who nodded his head vigorously.
    “We're now,” said Donald to Mother, “going to dance an old Austrian dance for you.”
    This, from the incredibly British and normally introvert Donald, came as such a surprise that even Larry was speechless. Sven crashed into an exceedingly vivid piece of music which was not unlike a mazurka, and the tall and gangling Max and the medium-sized, pale-faced Donald solemnly bowed to each other and then, holding hands, proceeded to dance. To our astonishment they did it remarkably well, prancing and twirling on the sand, with complicated moments where they had to slap each other's knees and hands and then leap in the air and slap their legs, and other intricate manoeuvres of this sort. They reminded me irresistably of the Gryphon and the Mock Turtle dancing the Lobster Quadrille in
Alice in Wonderland
. When they came to the end of their dance, so good was it that we all spontaneously burst out clapping, whereupon, beaming and perspiring profusely, they gave us an encore with a different tune.
    After our
corps de ballet
had had a swim to cool off,