Dear Fred,--Thanks for the Camembert. Thomas our cat has not
quite completed the Moonlight Sonata which he has spent several
nights in composing, but as soon as it is published I will send
you a copy of it in return.
My nephew, over from France on short leave, came to see us
yesterday but left hurriedly. He said that the air was too
reminiscent of a place where he was severely gassed. _Don't you
notice anything?_
Yours as ever, H. J. Fordyce.
Within an hour of the delivery of this letter another parcel arrived
from Petherton. It contained three ordinary clothes-pegs and a brief
note, which ran:--
Sir,--I thought even you would be able to take the hint
contained in my previous parcel. As however it was evidently
lost on you, I am writing to suggest to you more plainly that
you should wash your dog. I noticed its deplorable condition
when I passed it in the road the other morning, and am surprised
that the simple explanation of the trouble has not occurred to
you before.
Should the course I recommend have no good effect, I can only
suggest your shooting, selling or otherwise disposing of the
malodorous pest, or else wearing one of the protectors of which
I enclose three. They are somewhat archaic in design, but should
just suit you and your household.
Yours faithfully,
Frederick Petherton.