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We hope that these arrangements will make payment for books easier and cheaper for everyone concerned. Cheques MUST BE MADE PAYABLE TO THE INDIVIDUAL ADDRESSEE, as we do not yet have any foreign bank accounts in the name of the Society.

Bruce Frost
Hon. Treasurer

Ann and I have worked together with the Farmland Museum for the past twenty-eight years.

Apart from the museum, we have other interests in common, including a love of the Fens and its wildlife. When Ann heard I had been writing some “verses” on these subjects, she suggested that we should, for fun, publish them in a book
form and she would illustrate it.

We hope you, the reader, will get pleasure from our efforts: profits, from the sale of the book, assuming someone buys them, will go to our common cause, The Farmland Museum Friends.

Michael Delanoy MBE
Mepal, Cambs. 2003

The Interesting Life of Gustavus Vassa, The African
Written and Researched by Donna Martin

This is the true story of an African slave who survived the Atlantic slave trade, and lived a life of high adventure. When he eventually settled in England at the end of the eighteenth century, Olaudah Equiano, known as Gustavus Vassa made a success of his life by campaigning for the abolition of slavery, a cause that he championed until his death in 1797. He married a spinster of the parish of Soham in Cambridgeshire, called Susannah Cullen, with whom he had two daughters. Only his daughter, Joanna Vassa would outlive him.

Copyright Christine Law 2019
No part of this work may be reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording without the permission in writing from the author.

Acknowledgments
We would like to thank Pamela Dunning for the back cover, and Geoff Butcher for the front cover painting.
Published by The Littleport Society

Roger is a native of Littleport and was introduced to Local History by Miss Eileen Gill, one of his teachers.Since leaving school he has found time to write, and co-write, several books, mainly on the history of the village. He has also been involved in transcribing some of the registers of St. George’s Parish Church.In this Millennium year Roger's dedication to Littleport was acknowledged by his election to be the president of The Littleport Society. He is only the third person to hold this position, following in the footsteps of Mr. A. Harlock and of Miss E. R. Gill

If you live in the Fens or somewhere near,                  Times were not easy for anyone you saw,
You'll find these verses interesting to hear.                  It had a lot to do with getting over the war.
There are people and places you'll recognise,             But for other people most really did care,
You might read about yourself, with surprise.               That’s why I was glad to grow up there.

Don’t take offence since there’s none meant,               If you remember the people and this mentality,
It’s just old memories of how it all went.                        You'll know life was basic, each day a reality.
Depicting the place and mentality of the day,                Chuckle or cry at things we should not hide.
How it was at school and what we did at play.              Remembering them all with nostalgic pride.

Here and there a few names are left out,
In case their descendents are still about.
Don’t want to upset anyone or memory tarnish,
But it’s said like it was, there’s no use of varnish.

If he could have sold the squeak of a pig he would have done.

George Comins - Auctioneer 1911 - 1997

Christmas was over and 1976 was little more than a week old. After the festivities January was an anti-climax and the world seemed to hang in limbo. It was an effort to get motivated.

I decided to seek out some jovial company to brighten the day. I’d pay a surprise visit to my friend, David Becker, at his workshop near Hatfield Forest in Essex.

David is a master gun-maker, having served a long apprenticeship at James Purdey of London. He built sporting rifles for me as I was a keen deer stalker and rifle shot. We had much in common with shared interests and same sense of fun, a few hours with him was guaranteed to put me in good humour.

After an hour’s drive I was sitting on a stool in his workshop. A little iron stove squatted like a cheery dwarf, radiating cosy warmth. A mug of hot tea was handed to me by David’s wife, Wendy. The aroma in the air was an amalgam of the cut walnut wood, from which David was fashioning a gun stock, linseed oil, gun oil and his ‘Old English Pointer’ dog.

The world was a nicer place as we bantered and chatted. As I sipped my hot tea I noticed an untidy pile of papers sitting on a short filing cabinet beside his work bench. I saw at a glance that they were details of properties from Estate Agents and I asked David if they intended to move.