The World of Poo by Terry Pratchett Read Free Book Online Page B

Old Humphrey winked at Geoffrey, took his pipe out of his mouth and poked his tongue out at the retreating figure.
    Geoffrey giggled but obediently followed Lily into the kitchen where he found his Grand-mama, who was talking to Hartley the cook. ‘Geoffrey and I will be out for lunch, but we will be back for dinner,’ she was saying. ‘Geoffrey, oh there you are, we have been invited to a luncheon at the Guild of Plumbers and Dunnakin Divers by my good friend Sir Charles Lavatory, so you’ll need to look smart. I’ve bought you a new jacket; it’s in your room. Please don’t ruin this one because I’ve had it tailored especially for you.’

    Geoffrey ran upstairs and was delighted to find his new jacket had at least eight pockets, and they were all lined with a rubbery material that looked as though nothing could stain or even seep through to the surface. How kind of Grand-mama, he thought. I could collect a lot of interesting stuff wearing this jacket.
    Their carriage took them up Nonesuch Street, along Park Lane, past the Opera House and across the Brass Bridge to the Street of Alchemists, where the coach stopped outside the grand entrance to the Plumbers’ Guild, which had a bell-pull that looked just like the chain and lever on Grand-mama’s water closet and a door knocker that was shaped like a long-handled spade with a rounded end.
    Grand as the entrance was, nothing prepared Geoffrey for the sight that greeted them when they went in. The room was vast and the walls were completely covered from floor to ceiling with shiny patterned tiles. There were large pictures, also made up of tiles, of serious men with expressions of stern contentment and jobs well done.
    ‘How nice to see you, Maud, and this must be your grandson Geoffrey.’ A tall, grey-haired, distinguished-looking man with mutton-chop whiskers approached, greeting Grand-mama with a bow, and a smile for Geoffrey.
     
    ‘This, Geoffrey, is Sir Charles Lavatory,’ said Grand-mama.
    Geoffrey shook Sir Charles’s hand politely like a pupil meeting his master.
    ‘Now, Geoffrey, in accordance with the rules of the Guild of Plumbers and Dunnakin Divers you need to wash your hands, and I shall do the same.’ Sir Charles pointed to a long line of shiny sinks along one wall, many in constant use as one plumber greeted another. The air had the deliciously sharp smell of lye soap.
    Ablutions completed, Sir Charles then led Geoffrey and Grand-mama into a lounge where a number of other gentlemen were seated together in small groups.
    ‘Sir Charles,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Do you mind if I ask whether you like having the name of Lavatory?’
    For a moment the hubbub of noise from conversations around them fell silent as the whole room listened. Every eye was watching Sir Charles, whose face was at first blank and then all smiles.
    ‘What an excellent question!’ he cried. ‘To tell you the truth, young man, as you may expect, I was teased a lot when I went to school, but as they say, that which does not kill you makes you stronger. And so, as soon as I could, with the help of my late father, I set to work to make the Lavatory the marble marvel of the age and a boon and blessing to all mankind. I can truly say that I have ended up flushed with pride, now knowing that the name is associated with satisfaction and ease.’ To his surprise, Geoffrey saw a small tear form in the corner of Sir Charles’s eye as he continued: ‘There are times of an evening when I go down to the workshops, all silent, and look at the work that’s going on on this year’s model, with the seat-warmer and the patented straining bars, and I can’t help thinking that I’ve done my best for mankind. I wonder how many men with hands cleaner than mine can say that.’
    Every seat in the house was vacated as the plumbers got to their feet and clapped their scrupulously clean hands together until the echoes piled up. When it had all died away and conversations around the room restarted,