THE DULLARD

The villagers of Yockenthwaite knew him as ‘Jack Dull’, ‘Jack Dolt,’ or sometimes just ‘The Dullard’. His real name was John Dullard, last in a long, illustrious line of Dullards, and a man – so they said – of quite miraculous stupidity. The kind of stupidity that drew crowds, that had people inviting their relatives from neighbouring villages to come and witness the spectacle of it. Even the Baron himself came to watch, once, with a dozen knights and ladies, and enjoyed himself so much he immediately sent a letter to King Edward, assuring him he had never seen a ‘man of suche exceeding Dullnesse’. As a result, everywhere John went he was followed by an audience who wouldn’t leave until ‘Jack Dull’ had entertained them. They’d wait and watch and hold their breath; then he’d fall over his pigs, or accidentally eat a pinecone, or try and take his trousers off over his head, and the villagers would shake with laughter and return to their chores satisfied.

The pigs, of course, were part of the problem. John was a swineherd, like his father, and grandfather, and great grandfather, and apart from