FOUND PAPERS — the working world

A set of five recovered documents from the maintenance economy of Sogmarsh: a ditch-rota, a reed-grade certificate, a boatwright's bill, a borrowed-tool tag, and a smokehouse notice. Companion to THE WORKING WORLD. Each is presented as found — the annotations are part of the paper.

I · THE ROTA OF COMMUNAL DITCH-DAYS

(Nettlewick parish; kept by the Turn-Keeper. Recovered damp, and annotated in three hands.)

ROTA of the DITCH-DAYS owed by each Household to the Keeping of the Drains, that the water may go where it is sent and not where it likes.

Muckle — six days owed. ✓✓✓✓✓✓ "Pa attended one day, in his best coat, and directed. Bett attended five, and dug. Counted as six." Tussock — six days owed. ✓✓✓✓✓✓ "Attended — but re-dug the Muckle stretch 'to show them,' and turned the water into the Muckle low field. UNDER DISPUTE. Referred to the Boundary-Finder." Uncle Jeb — six days owed. "Claims exemption on a bad back that appears only on ditch-days. Owes six. Has owed six since 1871. The debt is now considered a landmark." Vern Clack (of the Muckle holding) — six days owed. ✓✓✓✓✓✓ "New. Attended all six, fell in twice, dug the wrong ditch once (which needed digging anyway), and is well thought of." Gammer Sowden — exempt. "Delivered two babies and a calf on the appointed day. The parish has agreed this is a form of drainage."

A household short of its ditch-days is not fined. It is remembered. — the Turn-Keeper.

II · A CERTIFICATE OF REED

(Reed country. Signed, disputed, and re-disputed on the same sheet.)

CERTIFICATE of REED — being the honest and impartial Grading of the within Bundles, by W. RENNY, Reed-Grader, whose Impartiality is Beyond Question and Universally Doubted.

Twenty bundles, graded ROOF, cut and sorted by W. Renny. Certified the finest cut of the Long. Signed, W. Renny, Grader. (The parish notes that W. Renny is the cutter and the grader of his own reed, which it has long found suspicious and never once been able to prove.)

— scrawled beneath, three hands — "It leaked." — the buyer. "It leaked because it was laid tip-down. Butt-down, and I'd stake my grade on it." — Gaffer Renny. "It leaked because it was BASKET reed sold as ROOF, and everyone in three parishes knows it." — the buyer. "A man's grade is his word." — W. Renny. "Then his word's a wet loft." — the buyer.

III · A BILL OF CLEM WHERRY, BOATWRIGHT

(The Drownings. Rendered at the year's turn; paid, as the total shows, in kind.)

THE ACCOUNT of CLEM WHERRY, Boatwright, to the House of Skeel, for the Year:

— Caulked the good boat, twice ............................ two favours — Spliced the third stilt (the one that goes) ............ one side of bacon — Raised the floor, half a day, with Ma Skeel ............. nothing, and glad to — Made a coffin for old Beake, and floated the family's dresser to the high house on the same tide ... no charge; you do not bill a house for its grief — Patched the leak nobody would own ...................... six eels

TOTAL: paid in full — in eels, bacon, favours, and one thing not spoken of. — C. Wherry, who has never lost a boat.

IV · A BORROWED-TOOL TAG

(Recovered still tied to the adze. The tag has more owners than the tool.)

THIS ADZE belongs to CLEM WHERRY and is LENT, not GIVEN, to whoever now holds it — who knows exactly who they are. Return it sharp, return it dry, and return it before you need it again yourself. A tool lent and not returned is not a theft in the Drownings. It is a friendship ended, which is worse. — C.W.

— the chain of hands, added below, one under the next — "Borrowed of Clem for the Tuppny stilt. Back by the neap. — Wet Tom." "Borrowed of Wet Tom. Will return to Clem direct, sharp and dry. — Nobby Sculls." "Borrowed of Nobby, who says it's his. It is not his. — Ma Skeel." "Returned to Clem. Sharp. Dry. Early. — Ma Skeel." (Clem has kept this tag. It is the only tool in the Drownings ever returned early, and he means to have it read at his funeral.)

V · A NOTICE FROM THE SMOKEHOUSE

(Pinned to the Saltgate smokehouse door. In one blunt hand.)

NOTICE, from the Smokehouse.

The fleet is very fine. It is not going anywhere. Neither, therefore, is your winter — provided you bring your fish to be cured through the Short, and not, as is the custom, all at once on the last cold day, weeping, expecting salt to be cheap and smoke to be free.

Salt is dear. Smoke is dearer. Grief is free, and I have no room for it in the smokehouse. Bring the fish early and the town eats. Bring it late and you may watch the boats, which is what you came for anyway.

— Marget Reek. The boats are the romance. This is the trade.

— beneath, in another hand — "We do love her." — the town.