He came through the door that winter’s night so long ago, an old man wet and well splashed with mud. John or ‘Old John’ as we called him, for to our childish eyes he looked old, was one of the travelling people who moved round our area in my young days. They were local people and never strayed too far out of their local habitat but because of some kink in their makeup a restlessness in their nature meant that they must always be on the move.

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