Two Small Notes on Dead Things.

I saw something small and white lying on the rug in front of my old fireplace this morning. Being naturally intrigued, I picked it up and found it to be hard and of a size and shape approximating to half a pea. Being even more intrigued, I turned it over and discovered that the underside was unquestionably the underside of a wood louse. I never knew that dead wood lice turned white, just as we do. I suppose it could have been the ghost of a wood louse, but then it would have wandered around wailing plaintively, wouldn’t it?

And do you know what I discovered through the reading of an MR James ghost story? I discovered that back in 1286 at a place near Viborg, Denmark, some ne’er-do-well known to the good denizens of Denmark as Marsk Stig murdered King Erik Glipping on St Celia’s Day. And that, further, when the remains of the monarch were exhumed in the 17th century, marks were found on his skull indicating no less than fifty six blows from square-headed maces. Why did I laugh when I read that? Somebody please tell me.