The Wren Boy I must have been having the time of my life the year I started singing, trying hard to remember the words, but high on applause and silver. In the lounge bar of a pub in Swinford I tried out a repertoire I’d culled from the Clancys and mixed to a Home Counties hybrid. Shock-headed, crowd-pleasing, I might have been one of their … Continue reading ‘The Wren Boy’ by David Cooke