When I was 17 I had left home and gone into lodgings near my Art College in Shrewsbury. My landlady was quite a character, collecting broken furniture from skips in those days and doing them up to sell to the local antique dealers. Her mother, Mrs Hillman, who wore something resembling a derestalker, was also eccentric. She lived at Column and had been out in India where her huband worked for many years.
One night she was sitting out on the veranda, when a Tiger aproached her. She recounted that she had followed local advice and remained very still. Eventualy the Tiger walked past her and down the steps of the veranda and back out into the night from which he came. I think she must have dined out on that tale for years afterwards.
