MY BEAUTIFUL LIBRARIAN.

When I was a kid, I went to a wee Highland School. Once a term we were visited by a lady who delivered a locked wooden box which had library books in it. She had a splendid nose, high colour and the  lean build of an aristocrat, a combination of which meant that as soon as she appeared at the school, the Primary Seven boys, as a man, leapt to carry in the box.
Our teacher gave out the books with the same frugality of rationed sugar. Not every book brought undiminished joy to its reader. In fact I can't recall reading anything that fed my later love for the written word.
Our librarian may have been equally uninspired because she gave up working for the local authority. Instead she bought her own van. In  summer and I suppose in the hope of engaging the interest of bored sun-bathers, she could be seen wheeling round Findhorn's sand dunes.The letters emblazoned on the vehicle's sides read 'Cherry's Mobile Library and Objet D'Arts.'
 I often wonder if she had many buyers.

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