A letter I received last Friday gave me one of those welcome excuses
to get into closer touch with my neighbour, Petherton, than our daily
proximity might seem to connote. I wrote to him thus:--
DEAR MR. PETHERTON,--Miss Gore-Langley has written to me to say
that she is getting up a Rag Auction on behalf of the Belgian
Relief Fund, and not knowing you personally, and having probably
heard that I am connected by ties of kinship with you, she asked
me to approach you on the subject of any old clothes you may have
to spare in such a cause.
Of course I'm not suggesting you should allow yourself to be
denuded in the cause (like Lady GODIVA), but I daresay you have
some odds and ends stowed away that you would contribute; for
instance, that delightful old topper that you were wont to go to
church in before the War, and that used to cause a titter among
the choir--can't you get the moths to let you have it? Neckties,
again. Where are the tartans of '71? Surely there may be some
bonny stragglers left in your tie-bins. And who fears to talk of
'98 and its fancy waistcoats? All rancour about them has passed
away, and if you have any ring-straked or spotted survivors, no
doubt they would fetch _something_ in a good cause. I hope you
will see what you can do for
Yours very truly,