Diary
John Henry Jones: At Home with the Empsons, 17 August 1989
“... and shovel, and we would trudge out into the wind like Lear and Fool. The pond would contain a foot of black sludge and decomposing autumn leaves. ‘Don’t stir it up, it will make a vile smell,’ he cautioned, but of course I did, and the first noseful of hydrogen sulphide would send him back to the house with a petulant ‘There. You’ve done ... ”