Never one to turn down the offer of a holiday, Jack made his way down the M1,
M42, and M5 to visit his cousin Farmer Jon in deepest Somerset. The journey
took a while, but everybody seemed friendly - all the cars sounded their horns
and waved their arms at him as they overtook his tractor. Jack was happy to be
off the motorway in the end, and along the scenic, familiar winding lanes
through the badlands before he got to Jon's farm.
Farmer Jon wasn't in such a good mood when Jack finally arrived though. "Them
buggers", he cried, "every June they come roaming round me fields, looking for a
festival. Eavis' farm's not another 20 miles away from 'ere in Pilton, but
they're all too stoned to notice, pillocks! Ravers, Hippies and Hedge-Monkeys,
same time every year. Just as I sow my crops they come trampling around,
treading in the seeds and ruining it all - 'elp me Jack". "Eee, that's trouble
at'mill and no mistake", mused Jack, "but m'tractors pretty nippy - I'll belt
round and get them seeds up for you" offered Jack. Jon gladly accepted,
tired-out by chasing the hippies, monkeys and ravers across the levels all day.
"I've no cows on them fields no more after that blue-tongue trouble, so you can
move the gates all you need - that'll really confuse 'em! Thanks Jack". "No
trouble", said Jack, "I'll start in morning".
"Proper Job!" said Jon, smiling at last.