Gervase Phinn

“Mmmm,' hummed Mum. 'What's it called?'
'Butch,' Dad told her.
'Butch!' Mum repeated. 'It doesn't sound like a small, docile, house-trained dog to me”
― Gervase Phinn, A Load of Old Tripe

“Just one more, before we get on with our writing,’ said the teacher, turning to a large, friendly-looking boy with cropped hair and large ears. ‘Scott’s from America, Mr Phinn. All the way from Tennessee. Come along then, Scott, what was your accident?’ ‘Well, I guess the worst accident I had was when I was riding my bike on the sidewalk – ’ ‘We call it “pavement” over here, Scott,’ interrupted the teacher. ‘Oh yeah, pavement, and I came to this slope. I was pedalling so fast I just could not stop. I put on my brakes but I carried on skidding and sliding until I hit one of those great white things in the middle of the road – ’ ‘Bollards,’ said the teacher. ‘Straight up, miss,’ said the boy. ‘I really did.”
― Gervase Phinn, Up and Down in the Dales