Diane put me on one if these here buses. I wasn’t too keen on the notion, what with the smell and all. Besides, they go faster than even Pickles, my black racing mule. It was a sunny day, at least for this neck of the woods—we get a lot more sun back home—so off we went to see some cliffs. Now why in tarnation she had to take me halfway around the world to see some cliffs is beyond me. But there they are. I admit, they are kind of pretty, white as they are and all.
Let me tell you, Leeds Castle is quite a place. You could put the Tasty Chicken Emporium in it a dozen times over. If Mama had this place, she’d make a mint. And take a look at this wine barrel. Now, if it was filled with fine Kentucky Bourbon, it would make some old cowhands mighty happy. Diane didn’t even let me have a snort—or kick up a game of poker in the parlor. Then again, you could play base-ball in that there parlor. Several of them.