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Merry seemed to think my reference to Miss Marpull in her Puzzles amusing, so here the whole story.

Every murder in ye Olde English Villages wot time has passed by is solved by a Sensible Old Biddy called a Miss Marpull!

It her duty to solve one murder a week, kept the Agatha Christie factory going when Lady Mallowan was alive, and now Miss Marpull cannot lose the habit. The Miss Marpull live in an Olde Cottage, and she have a Parlour Maid (you see wot I mean about time passing by? Who has a Parlour Maid these days?), it go with the job. Anyway, when a Murder take place, the Chief Constabule of Midshire do come, and he say Miss Marpull a most dreadful murder have occurred in the village, and my Detectives does not know where to start! And Miss Marpull reply, quite so, Sir Arthur, you will take tea won't you? And five minutes later in come Mary the Parlour Maid with tea and sandwiches and Sir Arthur eat one and say these salmon and cucumber sandwiches are very good, Miss Marpull! And she reply yes Sir Arthur, they is made for me by Mrs Murgatroyd, they is absolutely ekskwithit. Then her voice trail off, she absolutely astounded, Sir Arthur have scoffed the lot, much nicer than anything he get in the Police Canteen! Then he say, I have heard that her rock cakes are wonderfully scrumptious but Miss Marpull think you can wish on, matey, they is staying in my cake tin! And then they get on with the job in hand, Sir Arthur tell her that old Mrs Scoggins have had her head crushed in by an unknown assailant.

Miss Marpull say, well Sir Arthur, this a most distressing occurrence! As you know I has lived in the village of St Mary Wallop nearly all my life, but my study of village mannerisms and the people wot live here have given me a unique perspective! Here in our Village wot time has passed by, maiden Aunts bicycle to Church, it never rain on Saturdays when men play cricket on the village green and drink warm beer in the pavilion afterwards and eat enormous teas prepared by their wives, but turn nasty weather whenever one of them has a day off in the week to play golf! And so I does say to you, Sir Arthur! Peradventure, beyond question, without a doubt! Without fear of contradiction!! It the butler wot did it, it always is you know.

Sir Arthur reply that he does know that Miss Marpull have a unique insight, but on what do she base her hypothesis? Mrs Scoggins do not have a butler, she a cleaning lady. Miss Marpull answer no matter! All they have to do is find a butler in the village and it him! Sir Arthur begin to think that it perhaps time for the men in white coats to come along, and then a Constabule is shown into the room. Wot is it Perkins ask Sir Arthur. We has got the murderer, Sir! It Mr Blackett wot live next door to the victim, he have confessed! Miss Marpull say ah yes, just the man I had in mind! Was he not Butler at the Big House? The Constabule say you is right, Miss Marpull! And old Mrs Scoggins got fed up with his tales of Below Stairs and told him so, and he hit her over the head with a croquet mallet!

Sir Arthur gaze at his hostess, speechless in admiration. Miss Marpull smile and say she suspected Blackett even before she remember he was a Butler......because he hated cricket, and did not drink warm beer. Miss Marpull have triumphed yet again!

And now, Sir Arthur, she say; wot of the change of waitress at Mrs Murgatroyd's Olde Tea Shoppe? Wot have happened to the lovely Conchita, such a kind, helpful girl? Ah, Miss Marpull say Sir Arthur, 'twas a bad business. As you know, the au pair Conchita did botch the rock cake mixture with the lead shot, and no National Insurance number for her either. But I did take pity on the girl and vouched for her, it turn out that her father head of Lisbon CID and as she a EU citizen it all right for her to be here anyway. Mrs Murgatroyd have to pay a fine that nearly bust her, and now the lovely Conchita have found her true vocation in life, pulling pints in the Police Social Club. Miss Marpull reply that she so glad it all sorted out for the poor girl, it nice to know she safe in her new job.

And here a picture of Conchita in her special costume for the monthly Party Night! She the shorter one, the brunette. She and her friend Riitta Saloniipostiipankkii (another EU national) from Uusikaupunki in Finland do laugh with the disguised Deputy Chief Constabule of Midshire, his wife do not like him to be at Party Night so he try to change his appearance when he heard the cameras were coming. They say to him if you think that your wife do think you are the Duke of Edinburgh you will believe anything! And he probably does.
:lol  What a wonderful expose of Miss Marple and her quintessentially English way of life.  Anyone who lives in an inner city may find her England hard to recognise, but I can assure you that Cotswold village fetes have not changed one jot since Miss M's day.

I'm a big fan of Miss M and own all her TV episodes, both Geraldine McEwan and the much superior Joan Hickman incarnation.  And I know all the books off by heart but still never fail to be surprised when Miss M reveals the Truth.  :D  

I always liked her gentle assertion that alll humanity is to be found in a small village and every aspect of human nature can be studied without moving far from your own Village Green.  Certainly true in Toddington ;)

Wonderful post, dear Chaircat  :cuddle
Thank you Midge. I was always puzzled at why a little old lady could solve crimes when a detective inspector couldn't. Now I have seen the photo of the inspector I understand a little better that he obviously couldn't keep his eye on the job. :)
Marvelous parody, I really enjoyed it, having read most of Agatha's offerings over the decades.

But Falcon here has a question:



Howdy Chaircat! Mah creature only a Poor Pondswimmer, be perplexed. What do Phil Battenberg have to do with the price of eggs in St Mary Wallop?
What do Phil Battenberg have to do with the price of eggs in St Mary Wallop?


Hello, Falcon!   And may I compliment your Creature on sensible choice of footwear, and yourself on your smart appearance.

And now to business.   It all to do with cakes at the Village Fete.   Each year the good ladies of St Mary Wallop (except Miss Marpull who has her cooking done for her) compete to see who can bake the best Battenberg Cake.   It a most intricate Cake with funny colours and is designed to taste horrible if you does get it wrong.   The squares of different colours have to be exactly the same area to qualify for the Competition, and the ladies can never get it right first time.   Also, they need several goes to produce a Cake wot is actually edible.

Cakes need eggs.   A lot of failed cakes mean a lot of broken eggs.   As Farmer Giles has sole monopoly of Cake Eggs in St Mary Wallop (big shops cannot deliver there because of the time passing by factor) he can charge wotever he likes for his Cake Eggs, and it the duty of the ladies to take part in the Battenberg Cake competition, they cannot get out of it.

Here a piccy of the Cake.   This cake would not even make it to the competition because its colours are rectangles, not squares.
All to do with eatin' n suchlike importance. Ah reckon that clarifies that, thankee kindly.

Mayhap that-ere Duke Edinburger a tadbit jealous-like that he have only a girlie cake named after him, and Duke Wellington have popular and stylish, manly footgear named after him? [though hereabouts, these be called muckers, most essential when the creek do rise.]

Ah do take most particular care o mah smart appearance, thankee, being of authentic Virginian stock, and havin' mah reputation tuh maintain [jokes about mah being albino but rolled in the Potomac mudbanks aside. ]

Pleased tah make yuh esteemed acquaintance, miss.
:D

The Duke of Wellington do also have Beef Wellington named after him.  Our (I does have to share him with my Sister Claire) Creature do say it delicious when done properly.

Our Creature years ago did some work on a Military Museum in NE Hampshire wot never got off the ground, but provided employment for people in the planning/fundraising stage.   Creature one day read through the Collections that other Museums might donate to the new Museum.   Amongst the items on offer were the Duke of Wellington's hearing aids.   Another was a field kitchen dating to the Napoleonic wars.   Another was a highly evocative Biscuit, dating to the Boer War if Creature remembers properly.

O Happy Days!
I was not following this until cakes were pictured as I find Miss Marple terribly tedious not being from the country.

Anyway, are the cakes they sell in supermarkets and I do like very much, not real battenburgs on the grounds of non symetricalness then?

They are nice cakes all the same.

I suppose my wellingtons are not real wellingtons either as they are fleece lined and cost ten pounds.
are the cakes they sell in supermarkets and I do like very much, not real battenburgs on the grounds of non symetricalness then?


No, it only for competition purposes in St Mary Wallop, where things have to be just so.   You would not believe just how fussy Stand-Up-Back-Legses can be in these little Villages Wot Time Has Passed By.

Creature does agree with you, the important thing about a cake is the taste;  if you like the cake, then that all that matters.   He do like supermarket cakes very much, but cannot eat them because he is too fat.
A little late to the tea-party (Miss Marpull would doubtless have surmised all sorts of Motives and such, as Being Late for Tea only excusable in case of Murders etc. e.g. discovering corpse of Vicar in Bell-Tower) but may I just say  :D  :D  :D  :D  :D .

Population in St. Mary Wallop must be nearly all incomers (EU nationals of course) by now to make up the numbers of the deceased, as they have the highest murder rate in the known universe.
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