ABSTRACT
A spell of looking after my brother’s house and two fine nephews brings an unexpected literary bonus. Technically, I am spending the school day beavering away at the next novel, with cultural interludes at the local museums; but given the younger lad’s matchless collection of old Beanos. I have to admit that a considerable amount of time has been spent lying on the sofa reacquainting myself with the noble and timeless canon of DC Thomson’s masterwork.
