You rang, M'Lord ?

Last night I was getting ready for supper when I heard the bell for the front door ring. Imagine my surprise when I opened the door and saw none other than Ragwort, my fathers old butler ! I invited him straight in and showed him through to the study. As I fetched him a glass of Gin I asked him what he was doing in these parts as I assumed he had retired and was living in the sunny climes of Northamtonshire. He appeared a little confused but then said that he had been visiting the grave of his uncle who was a local man and died in the war - the one with the Boers.
Now, as far as I can remember, Ragwort had worked for my father and his father before him. Heaven alone knows how old he is now but he always used to tell me about when he was a lad and went to town to wave at the queen as she passed through. Apparently, Victoria was a small woman and not very pleasant.
I asked him how he had got here and he said that he had arrived in one of those horseless carriages so I assume he got a taxi. He said that he hoped I didn't mind him dropping in but he wanted to see the old place while he was in the area. I told him that it was lovely to see him and that he was always welcome here.
I asked how life had been treating him and he said that he had slowed down a bit in the last few years and that his legs weren't as good as once they were and that he had been in to hospital to have a piss-sack fitted to stop him constantly filling his shoes.
As we sat and chatted, he asked how I was getting on with the running of things on my own. I said I coped well enough and got various people in as and when I needed them to do jobs around the estate. He then asked was I in need of a butler ? I must admit that I was a little surprised and didn't really know how to respond but I asked if he knew of one. He then shocked me even more by saying that he was hoping to spend the summer months near his family in the village (His son lives in a retirement home just outside the village) and would therefore be seeking employment in the vicinity during his stay. More out of gratitude to his years of sterling service to my family than necessity, I said that he was welcome to come up here as often as he wanted and I would pay him for any hours that he did. The old guy looked so happy and slowly got up and shook my hand and then turned and said "In which case, Sir, I will return to my lodgings in the village and will be on duty tomorrow should you need me".
He then said that he should be getting back and asked if I would send a runner to fetch another carriage.
I nodded, still in a slight state of shock and amusement and rang for another taxi which duly arrived and he left.
So, I now have a part-time butler who probably helped dig the original footings of the church in the village.

I'm not sure what jobs I can find the old boy to do but as long as he feels useful, he will feel needed. He can clear up Lumpkin's empty Port glasses and empty the ashtray from his cigar butts I suppose.
Speaking of which, I suspect Lumpkin will be round this evening to spill the beans on what has been going on between one of the Parish councillors and the local primary school teacher. Lumpkin alluded to it being rather sordid and involving some Copydex glue, norks and some rubber pants...
I'll get some more Port in.