DEAR FREDDY,--I like you in all your moods, but positively adore you
when you are angry. As a matter of fact I am very fond of what are so
absurdly known as dumb animals, and am glad now that the chemist's was
closed last night before I decided whether to go there or not. BALAAM
himself would have been proud to own your animal. It roused me from
my bed this morning with what was unmistakably a very fine asinine
rendering of the first few bars of "The Yeoman's Wedding," but
unfortunately it lost the swing of it before the end of the first
verse.
Yours as ever,
HARRY.
Petherton gave up the contest; but I let him have a final tweak after
seeing the announcement of his splendid and public-spirited action to
help on the War Food scheme.
DEAR OLD BOY (I wrote),--How stupid you must have thought me all this
time! Only when I learnt from the paragraph in this morning's _Surbury
Examiner_ that, in response to the suggestion of the Rural District
Council, you have lent your field to the poor people of the
neighbourhood for growing War Food did I realise the meaning of the
dulcet-toned donkey's presence in your field.
The growing of more food at the present time is an absolute necessity,
but it was left to you to discover this novel method of proclaiming to
Surbury that here in its midst was land waiting to be put to really
useful purpose.
I do not know which to admire the more, your patriotism or the
ingenuity displayed in your selection of so admirable a mouthpiece
from among your circle of friends.
Yrs.,
H.
Petherton has left it at that.
* * * * *