One man and his manure

Once a year, for the past 20 years, Mr. Cain comes to deliver 82 sacks of best horse manure, matured for over 4 years and the product of the thoroughbred race horses he raises on his farm. Widowed some years ago, he reckons he's had many ladies willing to share the shovelling, but is just too busy to retire and settle down to domesticity at the age of 63. He always has an interesting line in patter, tales of his interesting life and stories of the celebrities he supplies (I said he should put "manure to the stars" on his card). About 15 years ago we had a bit of a pet rabbit explosion as one of the two females I'd bought turned out to have an extra furry bit. When Mr. C. came he found baby rabbits gambolling around the garden, helped me catch them, and bailed me out by taking some of them home for his grandchildren. Apparently they spent a happy life in their countryside homes as did their future generations. He is quite a charmer and always spreads the goods on the garden for me as a special favour - normally he just leaves the sacks full - in return for a cheery chat and a hot cup of tea with one sweetener (because he has to watch his figure, he said). See you next year Mr. C., God willing.

Oops - just realised I'm laying myself open (so to speak) to double-entendre comments on my references to "spreading the goods on the garden" and leaving his sacks full. Go on - enjoy yourselves!