Richard was obsessed with maritime objects. He turned his house into a museum and charged the tourists, visiting the seaside village, to view his collection. With the extra money, he brought more things and opened a repair workshop.
Finally, Richard ran out of room and decided to open a shop. He found it hard to part with some of his collection but then he saw how happy people were buying the maritime items and that made him pleased.
In his will, Richard left his collection to the village, saying that the maritime museum had to remain open. Tourism in the sleepy seaside area boomed.
They sat on the pebble shore, reflecting on what they had seen in the museum. It had been a shock to see the half section of the Mary Rose which their distant ancestor had sailed upon, looking so well persevered.
The wooden hull of the ship had dripped the protective water being sprayed a upon, making it easier to imagine the Mary Rose riding the sea waves.
They had seen items that their ancestor might have used on board and learned about the life he’d lead. They felt closer to him now then they did before.
London is mad! It’s huge, so much to see and do. We’ve been around so many museums and shops that my feet are dead! My brain is overloaded right now. Uncle wasn’t wrong when he said we wouldn’t do everything in a week!
Tomorrow, we are off to see the Queen. Though Dee says we won’t really get to meet her, it’s just her house and stuff. But I’ve been practising my curtsy and manners anyway!
Hope the weather is nice back home and everyone is doing well!
As a child, Mary’s favourite toys had been a china faced doll and a wooden spinning top. Her brothers had also received the spinning tops that same Christmas and they had hours of fun racing against it each other.
Spinning tops were out of fashion, children were all about technology and complicated toys now.
When the school children arrived at the museum, Mary showed them and let them play with replica toys which they seemed to really enjoy. So perhaps, there was still life left for spinning tops after all?
I was lucky to find this postcard in an antique shop and I thought you’d like it. No one living now can remember season changes, it’s always summer. (Of course, you know all of this!) How is your museum of the Old World doing? Busy, I hope! I’ve found a few things for your collection but I can’t post them to you whilst I’m flying! It’s letters only. In a few days, we will have reached the Drown Tropic Islands and then I can find an airship who will deliver.
I’d never really thought about it before but it was true what the museum tour guide said; your shoes say a lot about you. I looked down at my own scruffy but comfy trainers, they had spent years on my feet, walking and running through so many different places.
I looked at the scene before me; a traditional Japanese woman trying on an American pair of red high heels. She seemed pleased with them, her husband not so sure. Perhaps he was worrying over the price?
I twisted my trainers around and decided I could do with some new shoes, maybe not as fancy as her’s though.
The children of class B-2 were stood in front of the T-Rex skeleton in awe when it suddenly came to life, snatched up Billy Bale and ate him. The screams that rose were earth shattering and everybody started fleeing. The teacher standing aghast, caught Billy as he slid out from the bones.
The lantern shone out in the darkness, guiding all that needed it out of the gloom and to safety away from the fire. The light reflected in the fancy windows of the museum sending a strange glow across the glass cases. The people crowded inside, around the historical items and watched from the windows as the fire grew in the distance.
The museum was silent as the last of the lights clicked off and the caretaker left. The old building, that had once been a grand country house settled to sleep. As the darkness spread and the full moon rose, the sound of small bare footsteps sounded across wooden boards in a hallway. Followed by a soft giggling then everything went still again.
In the large room which held the toy collection, things started to move. An old bear’s paw was gently dipped downwards, a book was half pulled out from a shelf and a tin fire engine moved in it’s glass case.
Two sets of children’s running footsteps sounded on the creaking boards then the worn rugs covering the middle of the room. A soft humming echoed then faded.
Inside the doll’s house, the small china dolls began to move as the ghost children began playing.