| Abstract | Grandfather Bond was an Essex
Man, and Colchester was his town;
Birch was the village where he
Farmed, and such was his renoun,
That you'll hear people say
Today "Knew Tim Bond? A-course
I did. Knew he right well!"
There was never a horse hand
That passed Tim by without
A winnied nod, or even a hail
In anger left against that
Upright son of the land
....
They laid him to rest
In the meadow churchyard
Near the field he went to plough
....
As a boy with the horses
You'll never make oldbones
Pale and slight
Compiled from 3 handwritten scraps of paper ...
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