[Skeeter: The following was written by my Tio Willie before he died, and is dated: Orlando, Florida, March 1, 1988.]Question: Was there a real "LITTLE JACK HORNER"? Answer: So it is believed. One Thomas Horner was sent by the Abbot of Glastonbury with a gift to Henry VIII, King of England. It was a pie of sorts, containing deeds to several manors owned by the monastery. Horner's family soon disclosed possesion of one of those estates. That's what the nursery rhyme meant by saying "he stuck in his thumb and pulled out a plum." Glastonbury, England and Antigua, Guatemala.
My interest in Glastonbury started in Antigua in 1968. When I saw this news item, I remembered Antigua and Glastonbury and an incident in my childhood. So I'm making a record of the incident.
Several of the old colonial buildings in Antigua have an odd shaped top. I thought this was a cupola for ventilation. I later found that it was a chimney. Only two other places in the world had the same design: Tenifre, Canary Island and Glastonbury. So, while in England in the fall of 1983, I went to Glastonbury to see the Abbot's kitchen. The Abby is destroyed, but the kitchen dated before 500AD is intact. It has four huge fireplaces in the four corners. The ceiling is rounded and has small ridges leading upward as guides. The smoke would cling to the rounded ceiling and go upward, through the lantern or chimney. The lantern was constructed like a watch tower with windows on the four sides, and a curved sealed top. It is a large stucture and has a forty-inch mirror positioned so you can look down into the reflection of the top of the kitchen.CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE CANAL ZONE, TOWN OF GATUN
A Christmas play was being produced. The others I don't remember, but I was to play: LITTLE JACK HORNER. My mother had dressed me in a buster brown suit with a big bow tie, and high button shoes. My round chubby face and body was quivering with excitement - my first christmas performance. They gave me my christmas present early - a silver pocket knife - seated me on a stool on the right hand corner of the stage and, there being no plums in the commissary, gave me a cherry pie. I cut it in small pieces and ate it all. My fat little legs crossing and uncrossing with joy. Then came Santa Claus smelling of cloves and peppermint who gave me another cherry pie. I wish I had another christmas on the isthmus like that one.
William I. Hollowell, age 71
(I was known as Billy then.)
Submitted by CZAngel
December 5, 1999
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