Read The Eyeball Collector Online
Authors: F. E. Higgins
Prodigious praise for previous books by F. E. Higgins:
‘This clever, atmospheric debut . . . with its richly drawn and sometimes grotesque characters, its mysteries, its magic . . . is a piece of perfectly constructed, old-fashioned storytelling of the most compelling kind’
Sunday Times
Children’s Book of the Week
‘A deliciously rich mix of Gothic nastiness . . . and black humour . . . terrific verve, with glittering descriptive flashes’
Guardian
‘You are in for a terrific read . . . fierce yet sophisticated’
The Times
‘Young readers with a taste for the macabre will find it deliciously scary’
Observer
‘Writing so atmospheric that the fumes from the noxious River Foedus seem to seep off the page and swirl round the reader’
Telegraph
Also by F. E. Higgins
The Black Book of Secrets
Winner of a CBI Bisto Book of the Year Honour Award
www.blackbookofsecrets.com
The Bone Magician
www.thebonemagician.com
www.theeyeballcollector.com
MACMILLAN CHILDREN’S BOOKS
First published 2009 by Macmillan Children’s Books
This electronic edition published 2009 by Macmillan Children’s Books
a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
20 New Wharf Rd, London N1 9RR
Basingstoke and Oxford
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-0-230-73980-2 in Adobe Reader format
ISBN 978-0-230-73979-6 in Adobe Digital Editions format
ISBN 978-0-230-73981-9 in Mobipocket format
Copyright © F.E. Higgins 2009
The right of F.E. Higgins to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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To Beag Hickory,
Here’s to your eyes
,
may they never be in your potatoes
(
Also known as
Mother’s Ruin, kill-grief, comfort,
heart’s ease, Devil’s sweat
and
diddle)
At one stage gin was considered safer to drink than water, the city water often being contaminated with disease. As it became cheaper and cheaper, it was not long before this highly addictive tipple became known as Mother’s Ruin. As a result laws were passed that made it more difficult to sell gin openly. There arose the ‘gin pipe’ as a consequence: a pipe in the wall beside which was a slot. For a payment in the slot, gin would be dispensed into the waiting cup.
from
Urbs Umida. A City Beyond Salvation
by K. B. & G. W. Porter-Scott
PART THE FIRST: A DIVIDED CITY
Ode to Urbs Umida
by
Beag Hickory
PART THE SECOND: THE HAIRY-BACKED FOREST HOG
Extract from
Myths and Folklore, Flora and Fauna of the Ancient Oak Forest
PART THE THIRD: THE MIDWINTER FEAST
Extract from the Menu at Trimalchio’s Feast
A Note from F. E. Higgins
Extract from
A letter from Hector Fitzbaudly to Polly
. . . It was my father taught me how to kill a butterfly. To take it in your hand, unsuspecting as it is, and to pinch it underneath with finger and thumb, at the thorax, to stun it. Then to place the body swiftly in the killing jar, tighten the lid and allow the fumes to finish it off painlessly. Father often asked me to net the butterflies, because I was nimble and had a lightness of touch; they were never damaged when I caught them. It is still a source of wonder to me that, from a lowly caterpillar, such a beautiful creature can come into existence.
Then, when I was older, I learned to mount them. We worked in Father’s study, in the comforting glow of the fire and beneath the soft light of the gas lamps. I remember how he gathered together, quietly and unhurriedly, the equipment from shelves and drawers and I laid it out neatly on the desk – boards and pins and paper. Next, with a flourish he would present me with the butterfly, a bright yellow Brimstone or perhaps an Orange Tip, and I would begin.