I was doing some medieval research today, when I came across the sad story of a man by the name of Roger the Raker. Now Roger lived in the thirteenth century, and, being forward-thinking, a trend-setter, a keeper-up-with-the-Jones, Roger decided to build himself a proper toilet. He dug himself a cistern, build a seat and a hut around it.
You can imagine how envious the neighbours must have been.
Sadly, Roger’s story did not end happily, and he made the history books for all the wrong reasons. Inspired by his sad demise, I wrote the following:
The story of Roger the Raker
is one that will make you all think;
a plain mortal man
on a lavat’ry pan,
who ended up quite in the stink.
For Roger was quite forward thinking
in a century long, long ago,
he dug him a sewer
and built all around it
a kingly and luxury loo.
But a cistern will need to be emptied –
it’s something poor Roger forgot.
Each day he would visit
his wonderful throne
and then wander off, likely as not.
And the cistern got fuller and fuller,
and the wood of the floorboards got dank,
but Rog didn’t notice,
although his wife moaned,
as she slipped on the planks, which were rank.
The story of Roger the Raker,
alas and alack, it is true.
He sat on his toilet,
the floorboards all broke,
and he died in a slimepit of poo.
© Loretta Livingstone 22/1/16