The Professor Peregrine Papers

The Professor at one point in his past became the mixologist at the famous, hard-to-find “Middle of Next Week Bar” just outside of Moulton Eaugate. Connoisseurs of exotic and lovingly overpriced drinks flocked to to try his “Uncertainty Principle Spritz” and “Categorical Syllogism Daiquiri”.  However, following a number of minor explosions and an embarrassingly large number of swans a-swimming appearing at Christmas, he was asked to leave. The Professor has written (on paper previously used to wrap a piece of Lincolnshire Poacher): "'The one thing I regret is that swans cannot speak." Subsequently, the Professor took up the position of Chief Archivist, Inattentive Researcher and Occasional Beadle at the Society for the Preservation of Devil Among The Tailors.

One October night, returning from a walk through narrow streets, she stood before her window and said, "That is not what I meant, at all" After so much time, the memory is submerged so deeply that I no longer fear rebuke. I could answer you, but I cannot offer a new love song.

In recent years, the Professor has become fascinated by the legend of The Almost Invisible Cat of Aston by Budworth. He has told me on numerous and, frankly, wholly inopportune occasions that he regards this legend as a fine metaphor for both our age and also the state of Implausible Scholarship.  He was, however, enraged by a recent paper published in “The Journal of Insupportable News and Questionable Theories” which suggested that the creature actually exists in this world (or reality, as it's sometimes called). It went so far as to allege that the cat was known by the name “Rakehelly Sausagement”.  The author of this paper, Mr Stonton Wyville, is both an eminent cryptozoologist and a specious opportunist who is probably best known for his essay “Mermaid of Mawgan Porth” and his televised documentary “The Unexpected Dog Wearing A Hat of Mortimer's Cross”. The Professor has attempted to enter into a debate on this issue but Wyville insists on presenting his arguments solely ...

October 4th 1926 Rue Lafayette, Paris André Breton sees Nadja for the first time. A new day. I put on gloves of foam. Much later, à la station balnéaire, I became gloves of horsehair. Time for tea. I'm putting the kettle on. Effrontément.

Recently Professor Peregrine has been stung by the criticism from various academics and other cardsharps of his paper entitled “Shakespeare, Raised Pork Pies and The Early Works of The Incredible String Band”. Beckoning me into a dark corner of the “The Fishmonger and Solenoid” saloon bar recently, he gave me his side of of the story. “I sequestered myself in a small bungalow just outside of Monk Soham for several months, listening only to Mozart's Trumpet Concerto (K. 47c), while researching that paper. I stand by its entirely spurious and misbegotten conclusions. Or, at least, I will if I can ever bring them to mind.” He paused briefly to savour a surprisingly large handful of cheese and persimmon crisps, before going on in hushed tones: “I am aware that there have been scurrilous and opprobrious mutterings on this subject, notably from the Garrak Larrups Memorial College and Centre for Ponderous Trapezists. Frankly, I refuse to consider that institution worthy of my concern. I w...

Eight o'clock, Place du Châtelet: As he sat outside his favourite café, Daglet Scribacious was surprised by a visit from the ghost of Paul Éluard.