Stood among the liberated Year Five class
in the Oxford Natural History Museum was
the apparently inexhaustible Miss Hodgson:
tallish, thirty-something and sporting
short dark hair with a cardigan
draped over her shoulders. She was
looking at the stuffed dodo through her
designer glasses. She explained to the class
that yes, they were real and no, there
were not any left, before an enthusiastic
red-headed boy shouted from beneath
the model T-Rex skeleton, informing her
that she wasn't going to believe this. I
was poorly positioned to see her
smile and cursed myself for casually
passing the Lewis Carroll display
to acquaint myself with the
bones of a long-dead elephant.
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