1933 November
From LJT to Annette
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
Nov: 2nd 1933
My darling Annette,
Time! Time! Why does it fly so? The family letter took me so long, and I have had so many interruptions, that I have scarcely any time left for your personal letter. There always seem to be a lot of things to see to when one gets back home. Life this morning has been complicated for me by acting as mediator in an unfortunate misunderstanding which has taken place between one of my Guide Officers and the Principal of the school where she works, while I have been away. I have had enormous telephone conversations with both parties this morning, and with our division commissioner, and I have been trying to pour oil on troubled waters, and smooth things over. Its such a pity when people speak, or worse still write letters when they are in a temper. Its a very good thing always to “sleep on it” before taking action
I managed to get a second copy of the pictures of the opening of the new Teesta bridge, about which I have told you in the family letter so I have sent them to Richard, and asked him to send them on to you as soon as possible.
Forgive the shortness of this letter, but I must send the chaprassi to the post.
Best love, my darling
Mum
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
Nov 2nd 1933
My dear Annette.
Down from the mountains. Escaping motor-car-sickness by the stratagem of taking two pellets or capsules of some potent drug: and thereby plunging myself next day into a certain apathy or sloth. Splendid weather in Darjeeling: and the motor drive down in the cold moonlight was positively European – except in the beauty of the scenery which was definitely Himalayan. The lights of cars moving down the mountains far away are eerie. We ate sausages out of a tin at Siliguri, to avoid the dinner as cooked: also peeches: and coffee. Very full afterwards: but it was the drug that caused me to sleep heavily all night.
Here I find much work. Alas. I am not good at getting through work. No one does more: but I never bring myself to do what is really urgent.
We went to Bathe. The water was definitely chilly: only 79 – or about twenty degrees higher than you people like it in England. This was the day after our return and I was deadbeat. One or two good dives and some bad.
What more? The house has been repainted outside. The car also: not as part of the same transaction. Colour as before: brown. The dynamo went wrong yesterday. It does a car no good to leave it for a couple of months.
Much love
Dad.
“Ah. Ah” (said Aramis) – the French records are warped and wont fit onto the gramophone below the arm.
From LJT to Annette
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
Nov 8th 1933
My darling Annette,
It was an interesting letter waiting for me when I got back from the Club on Saturday evening. I have seen “She Stoops To Conquer” twice at the Old Vic and found it very amusing. I have also seen “Escape” both as a play and on the films. I can’t imagine how you set about making yourself look like a convict! One’s sympathy is so terribly bound up with the convict in that play, but its an unfair presentation of fact, in a way. Its true that one might have one man in prison for an accidental crime, but for one such, there must always be thousands who are really guilty of dreadful crimes against their fellow men, and one must hold on to ones sense of justice about these things.
Its good to hear that you are reading an amusing German book. I remember reading Grimm’s Fairy tales with pleasure in German, but I also remember wading through a book which I found both difficult and dull It was Goethe’s “Knaben Yahre”
I am very amused to hear about your “Chaffinch Patrol” chart Its a most amusing idea. I wish My girls would do more things on their own. They always say that they have no time.
Auntie Winsome has been asking a lot about you, and how the operation went off, and whether you have been doing any interesting needle-work and all sorts of things. She takes a great interest in your doings.
I can see that I am nearly at the end of the page, so I am going to say goodnight.
Best love, my darling
Mum
Family letter from LJT
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
Nov 9th 1933.
My dears,
I sent my typewriter to be looked to because the ribbon was not running quite right, and they seem to have done something odd to it from the way the letters jumped about in the address. It ----- I was just going to say seems to have recovered itself now, when that “t” slipped.
It has been a busy week, full of very varied activities. The weather at this time of year in Calcutta, and right on to the end of February is so heavenly, that one does really feel that one is lucky to be out in India, instead of in the cold English Autumn. Crowds of new people, or old friends who have been away, arriving, and lots of new clothes are appearing, so we begin to know whether what Vogue, and the other fashion papers have told us, is true. I am glad to find that there are plenty of reasonable shaped hats, for one rather got the impression that one had got to wear little boat shaped caps or hats, perched rakishly on one side of one’s head. I have been wrestling with my own wardrobe this week, and thanking my stars for an dhirzie who takes a pride in being ingenious in doing alterations, and who seems to be managing to transform my frocks, so that they will do for this cold weather season, without buying new. I always feel very virtuous when I give up time to dealing with clothes, for, though I like nice clothes, the process of getting them bores me.
Percy Brown is back, and we are up to eyes in correcting the proof of “Tours in Sikkim” and dealing with the tricky matter of the map to illustrate it. Mr Brown’s travels, on his way out, through Asia Minor, the Holy Land, and across the Desert on lorries, were most interesting, but I think the complete biscuit was taken by an incident he saw at Ajmere, on his way across India. He happened to arrive in Ajmere, when one of these very big sort of religious fairs and pilgrimages, was in progress. It seemed to be a combined affair of the ordinary Hindus and the Jains. Mr B. was wandering round and came upon a place where two flower decked thrones, were arranged on a platform, surrounded by an amphitheatre of seats, crowded with women in the gayest of gala clothes, and with a seat reserved for the local district Magistrate, and, seated on the thrones were two grey-bearded grey-haired middle aged gentlemen, stark naked. At a given moment a gramaphone started playing The Choristers walz, and the men began plucking out their beards in time to the music, and throwing the hairs into large brass bowls full of water, which were placed in front of them Meanewhile, the women all shouted “Jai! Jai!” which means “Victory! Victory!” Mr Brown was on the outskirts of the crowd, being only a casual stranger, and did not get any satisfactory explanation of this strange ceremony. It was probably, what most ceremonies involving holy men and a crowd of women are in India, and that is some sort of a praying for children, especially sons.
On Friday evening we had a nice little party of mountain climbers to dinner. Actually there were two men who are just back from a months climbing in Northern Sikkim, and one who was climbing in neighbouring country last year, with the Fawcuses and ourselves for audience. After dinner we spread out maps on a table, and had an enthralling time following their adventures. Six days after leaving Calcutta, and after living at sea level for two and a half years, one of them, Mr Gourlay climbed alone to the top of Chomiomo, 22,450 ft all by himself, as his companion could not stick the altitude with so little aclimatisation, and had to turn back. He was then joined by another man, and they did four of the high and little known passes, ranging round about 17,000 or18,000 ft in 5 days, - - “would have done them in 4 –“ says G.B. as Mr Gourlay is always known by his friends, but they met the Governor in one of the deep valleys they crossed and had to stop and have lunch with him. Some of these passes G.B. very kindly did for the sake of the book. His next exploit was to try to climb another mountain Lama Anden. He was beaten by bad weather conditions, but got very much higher than the others. I don’t know why I tell you all this, - - I suppose because it interests me so much, especially as we were past the foot of both these mountains last year.
The weather is perfect for such things as racing now, and it was delightful out at the last day of the Tollygunge races on Saturday I had a little lunch party first, and we all went out to-gether, Herbert joining us for tea. I am always sorry when the Tollygunge Races are over, for those little amature races with only amature riders are such fun, and they have the additional charm, that they cost members of the club nothing but what they choose to spend betting.
It is also heavenly playing golf these days, and I am glad to find that I have recovered my drive to some extent.
I have been very busy with the preliminary arrangements for a big ball in aid of the Red Cross, of which I am in charge. I have chosen a committee, whom I hope will do most of the work, and who seemed very promising at our first meeting on Monday. We are also just embarking on first plans for the Calcutta Health Week, and had a long meeting last night. There has not been a great deal of time for idling, nor for reading and I am afraid the household mending is just piling up till the dhirzie comes on Monday.
Herbert’s days’ round is office, followed by a bathe between 6 and 7 o’clock, and a talk and drink at one of the clubs or a visit to some friends’ house for the same purpose. I am sorry to say that he has been working after dinner most nights this week, except on Monday when Harry and Winsome and Hugh Carey-Morgan, came in to dinner. Harry and Winsome have just been down to Puri, and both look so well. the children, whom we visited the other evening are looking splendid, and Charlotte is growing into such a nice baby.
Time to stop!
Best love to you all
LJT
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
Nov 9th 1933
Dear Annette
To Richard I write interminable screeds about my attack on the permanent settlement – about which doubtless you know nothing. It is the dead hand of Bengal and the history books talk tripe about it. To you what?
I have dived a bit: it doesn’t fill a letter: not this letter any how – it has filled too many before.
The weather is fine: that also has been a subject used before and I shall want it again in future – so let it be. Also cool: by comparison. I shall tell social and instructive anecdotes. Thus
Mr Percy Brown in (?)Ajnieve lately saw a crowd and went also. A throne had been built at the end of a lake: all most beautiful around and the throne a pleasing one. On it were two old Jains. Ancient men. With not a stitch on. Sitting proudly. (The Jains are those who will kill no living creature – also some of the consider themselves to be clothed by the heavens. There were Jains in Kim) Around was a crowd of thousands of women all gaily clad. Outside a row of booths sidewhows jugglers and the like. It was some religious ceremony: all very sacred. There was a band. It played the Choristers Waltz. And while it played the two Jains solemnly tugged out handfuls of their beards and put the hair in basins. The women shouted Ai ai and were obviously much impressed. The beard pulling continued and the band therewith. And Mr Brown came away while each of the old men had still half a beard left. “There,” he said to us, “is the real India” Also “nowhere else in the world would you see the like.” It was in Rajputana. Ho! ho! soon they’ll have votes. And what is the use of a vote to a person who sees merit in a naked man pulling his beard out in tugs and clumps (or tufts) – with jerks to music.
Enough of anecdotes. And of letter writing
Much love
Daddie.
Family letter from LJT
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
Nov 15th 1933.
My dears,
Most of this week has been taken with going through the proof of Tours in Sikkim, consulting Percy Brown about various things, a long consultation about the map, which is to illustrate it, a visit to the Survey office yesterday, to get estimates from them, and such things, --at least that is what has principally occupied my mind, though I have played golf, bathed, and had one or two pleasant evenings at the Saturday club. I went to rather a nice piano recital with Rex Fawcus on Friday evening, given by a Dr Bushe, who has come out from England to hold examinations on behalf of various musical institutions at home, including the Royal Academy of Music. We dropped into the Saturday Club for a drink and a dance or two afterwards, and watched all the new girls who have just arrived out.
On Saturday, Armistice Day, I had to lay the wreath on behalf of the Girl Guides, on the Cenotaph. We don’t take the girls on to parade, but quite a number of officers turned up in uniform. As I was standing in front of them, I was in some anxiety to know how long to stand at the salute and so on, but by keeping the tail of my cocked on the staff standing round the Governor, I managed to do things at the proper time. I have never had such a good view of the “reverse arms” procedure before. What an elaborate ritual it is! Although the weather is really cool and delicious, it was pretty warm standing with the sun on our backs, and I was jolly glad of a drink afterwards.
Faith and John Stubbs came in to see us one evening. They have been up in Mussorie for a bit, and Faith has taken her wonderful Great Danes to several shows and won a lot of prizes with them. John is very busy with arrangements for the Tatoo which is to take place in January.
My young German friend, Mr Richter, took me to listen to the Sunday morning band concert at the Saturday Club on Sunday. The band is an Italian one, which was out here last year, and they play semi-classical stuff rather well. I like talking to Mr Richter. It is interesting hearing what he has to say about Hitler.
Herbert has been working like mad. I have often told you about his “Note” on irrigating Bengal, and at the same time bringing the river silt back on to the land, and washing out the mosquitoes. He had taken infinite trouble over it, and worked out a great many statistics, and at last it went to be printed. He was just checking and correcting the proof, when the irrigation department calmly said that a lot of the figures they had given him, were not quite correct. It has not only meant correcting his calculations all the way through, but altering a good deal of the text of the note too, and he was working practically all Saturday afternoon, and all day Sunday at it, with the result that he has been very overtired the last two days and to-day I have had to keep him in bed with a chill. The only comfort is that the enforced rest will do him good.
If this letter is a bit disjointed, it is because Herbert calls me every now and again to find some paper, or ring up his Minister, or his office about something or other.
It has been distinctly colder the last three days, and I have added a blanket to the shawl, which has been covering my bed, and have had some of the many drawing-room windows shut of an evening.
I hope you are all flourishing. It seems egotistical, the way I talk about myself all the time in these letters, but there are too many of you to send any personal message to each of you.
Best love to you all
Yours
Joan`
From LJT to Annette
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
Nov 15th 1933
My darling Annette,
I am so glad that the post-card I gave to the passing wayfarer to post, reached you safely. It is nice to know that he was an honest fellow. It had not occurred to me to doubt him, but Dad said that he would be sure to keep the cards for himself.
My school magasine has never come. I have been lent a copy by another Old St Monican here, and find my name is not on the list of “Members Abroad” I have written off post haste to know why, for I paid my subscription alright. There are some rather good things in it and we like your contributions very much. Dad is most anxious to know how much of the French you did really your self.
Dad is in bed with a nasty chill, and really does not feel up to writing letters, so he sends his love and blessing. He had quite a high temperature last night, but it is down to almost normal this morning, I am glad to say. I am having a doctor in to see him all the same.
I am sorry that none of your presents arrived on your birthday morning, and hope they turned up eventually. I gather that ours was still in abeyance till you could make up your mind what you wanted. You seem to have had a splendid party. We are quite in the dark about what the lovely “flap-jack” from Berlin, the famous Berlin pot, can be. Do tell us.
Yours is the only news I have had of Rosemary’s change in the style of her hair-dressing. I find it hard to imagine her without her straight fringe.
Letter-writing has been very difficult this morning, as I keep on having to ring up the office and give directions from Dad, or do little things for him, so no more now.
Best love and kisses
Mum
Enclosed is a snap of Dad outside Tolly Bath and one of this house.
Family letter from LJT
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
Nov. 21st 1933.
My Dears,
This week, though I have been extremely busy, I don’t think I have much of interest to write about. Herbert has been laid up with dysentry. Its such a tiresome disease, because one dare not not attend to it, and the treatment is so largely starvation, that it is bound to pull one down very much. Poor Herbert lived on white of egg and water on Thursday and Friday, and was allowed a little arrowroot on Saturday and Sunday, and felt it was a great treat to be allowed a poached egg for lunch on Monday. Since then we have been feeding him up, and today he is to go out for a short drive. It is a great nuisence for him, because it has pulled him down so much, and also it worries him to think of his work piling up and piling up, for in his sort of job, there is noone to do the work while he is away.
In the intervals of looking after him etc, I have had to sandwich in a lot of work. I am getting tremendously busy with this Red Cross Ball. There is a tremendous lot of detailed staff-work to be thought out, and an immense amount of interviewing people, writing begging letters and so forth and so on to be tackled. I am also busy with the proofs of the Sikkim book, and the map for it. G.B.Gourley, the climber I think I have told you about, came to lunch with me on Sunday, and we spent an hour or more, going over part of North Sikkim, [which was very little known when the map was made,] and filling in camping grounds, and names of peaks, which the Survey does not mention. “G.B.” brought the photos of his last climbing trip, which are fascinatingly interesting.
Sunday was a busy day for me altogether, for I had the Chairman of the Red Cross here for two hours in the morning, talking over all the arrangements for the dance, and as soon as “G.B.” had gone in the afternoon, I had to go off and meet Fenwick Gass’ brother-in-law, who was arriving by boat from England. Meeting a boat is always a long performance, though on this occasion it was pleasant enough, for the car was able to stand almost on the jetty, and there were half a dozen friends of mine down there, so we had no lack of conversation. I brought the young man to spend the night here, as the strange room on the roof of this house is now vacant, and the Hances are living in the downstairs flat. Harry and Winsome kindly came and took my guest off my hands for a bit between tea and dinner, so that I could devote myself to Herbert for a while, who, I felt, I had rather neglected. Luckily he had had several visitors, so had not been too dull. Mr Edgell, the guest, was a nice man, and I enjoyed his company. Having tucked Herbert up for the night, and left the bearer sitting outside his door, Mr Edgell and I went off to see the film of “Bitter Sweet” after dinner. Why do the film people so often take an enchanting opera or play, and proceed to ruin it? I could scarcely sit through “Bitter Sweet”, which I so adored on the stage. Mr Edgell, who had not seen the play, enjoyed it.
A wire has just come from Ron Kaulbach from Rangoon, saying that he is arriving here on Sunday, and continuing “may I, dear Uncle and Auntie, have a meal with you”. I am hoping he will be here for some days. There are lots of people who want to see him, and hear news of Kingdon-Ward, ---- all the men in the Survey Dept, amongst others
I have had a great surprise this week. I have been asked to take over the secretaryship of the Eastern section of the Himalayan Club. I feel much complimented, for it is barely a year since they decided to allow women members in the club. It is a job I am awfully pleased to do, and one that will interest me enormously. I suppose it is the work I have done on the Sikkim book that has qualified me for the job.
I am not going to start on another sheet, for I have a good many things to attend to this morning, so just send my best love to you all
Yours
LJT
From LJT to Annette
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
Nov 22nd 1933
My darling Annette,
It was a very amusing letter from you last week. I wonder how the “Horror” party went off, and whether you made a success of playing the part of a leper. What an idea! I remember, there are two or three lepers about in the Darjeeling baazar, and a man with twisted legs, and when you and Rosemary were tiny, we used to hope you would not notice them, in case they should frighten or disgust you. Rosemary, on coming back from the Market one day, gave a good imitation of the lame man, and requested to be taken to see him again! So much for trying to guard the finer feelings of the young!
I have been thanking my stars this week, that I have learnt to use a typewriter, for I keep on having to send out batches of 12 letters or notices to the members of my Red Cross Committee, and I don’t know how I should get through them if I had to write out each separately by hand. When you get a chance, I advise you to learn to use a typewriter.
In Rosemary’s letter last week, she said “I am very happy, but I hate the mistrisses, and they hate me I think”. I was rather sorry to hear this, though I hope it was only a temporory feeling, because she felt grumpy, or something. Have you gathered anything of the sort? I don’t want to pry into her affairs, but I should hate to think she was developing the attitude of thinking that people don’t like her. Keep a tactful eye open, and let me know what you think some time.
I have been enjoying the School Magasine very much. Its extraordinary how much it has gained in interest since you and Rosemary have been at the school, ---- for me, I mean! One way and another you seem to have quite a jolly school life, and one that ought to be preparing you for life in the big world. That is where a boarding school scores so over a day school. All this organising of parties and plays, and that sort of thing help you to be ready to tackle anything that comes along, after you are grown up.
I am reading three books at the moment. One is a strange book called “Death in the afternoon”, which is a long drawn out and very detailed study of Bull-fighting. Its interesting and unusual. I am also reading “Lhasa and its Mysteries”, and now and again I am dipping into a book of essays by Huxley, on Heridity and Mendalism and such. Its rather a queer mixture, and all interesting. I wish I had time to sit down and have a good dig in at them all.
I must stop now.
Best love, my darling
From
Mum
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
Nov 22nd 1933
My dear Annette
I read with interest the little French essay above your name in the school magazine. Reveal to me what it represented? was it something written off hand in school as an exercise or was it composed with care and after access to books? The names of the flowers had me beat.
Lying in bed here I have started the gramophone on several mornings and listened to the French records. But one gets little profit from them except by repeating them aloud and this I have lacked energy to do.
I am all right again but weak. Lying in bed and living on slops pulls one down. And I had been doing so much work before that I lack a reserve of strength to pull me together again.
Reading and sleeping have passed the week. Curious that I didn’t feel hungry. Perhaps the bacteriophage treatment blasts one out (certainly something did) and keeps off hunger. Bacteriophage is a treatment which many are (?)having these days but I know that many doctors think it much over rated. I had a very slight attach anyhow. Much less severe than your mother had last week: but then I was ill with mine and she felt quite all right with hers: probably I had a chill to start with. The chief thing wrong is the consciousness that my work is piling up in my absence. Probably I wouldn’t like not having a lot of work but there is such a thing as a superfluity of blessings.
I seems so stupid to have a spare week like this and not to work off all the outstanding letters due from me. Five really due – besides any number which it would be well to write. But laziness is laziness.
There is one thing that you never told us. Did you continue with lessons in the crawl at school last summer? In fact can you crawl? in the swimming bath, I mean.
Much love
Daddie.
Family letter from LJT
14/1 Rowland Road.
Calcutta
Nov:30th 1933.
My dears,
A happy Christmas to you all! I am hoping to get separate letters off to each of you, but the good wishes are just in case.
I have been so busy this week, that I have scarcely had time to think of anything but the jobs in which I am involved. I shall be truly thankful when this Red Cross ball is over! Being responsible for all the detail, and the smooth working of the whole thing, means such an infinite amount of attention to detail.
Herbert is better, but picking up very slowly. He tried to go to office on Monday, but came back after about an hour, absolutely exhausted, and very depressed, partly, I think at the sight of the piles of work that have accumulated while he has been away. Since then I have persuaded him to wok in the house, but he is going to office to-day, and coming home to lunch. An old school friend of his, a certain Col Cadell, has just turned up here to attend some medical conference, and has greatly comforted Herbert by telling him that it is the toxins left behind by even the mildest attack of dysentery that make one feel so rotten after it. Col Cadell has spent most of the two last evenings, between tea and dinner, with Herbert, and they have enjoyed themselves enormously. Col Cadell was telling us how extraordinarily good John Kettelwell became on the wireless. He says he believes John got T.B. went for a voyage to try to improve his health, and died soon after he got home again. It seems sad that he should have been snatched away, just when he had made good, and found himself a niche.
I am just trying to think whether there have been any social doings of interest this week. I am afraid I have been looking on such things as rather tiresome interruptions, taking up time I wanted to be giving to other things. There was a huge dinner at Government House on Friday, to which Herbert could not go, but they told me to go without him. Those enormous parties are always rather comic, and ones enjoyment depends very much on who one happens to sit next to, and who is brought up to talk to one after dinner. I sat between our fiercest High Court Judge, who is an amusing old bird, taken in small doses, in spite of his reputation as a fire-eater, and quite a reasonably interesting Indian, who is Agent of the East Bengal Rly, now, so I was not badly off, and had some quite entertaining people to talk to afterwards.
The real excitement of the week, was Ron Kaulback’s arrival on Sunday morning. His boat got in from Rangoon at the agreable hour of 8.30 a.m. H.D. and Winsome and I all went down to meet him. The river looked so pretty, and the air was delightfully fresh, without being cold. The boat came in to time, and Ron had wisely made his luggage over to his agents to put through the customs, so we had no delays, and were able to come straight away. Ron was looking very well, but not quite as sunburnt as I expected. Of course it was a long time since he had been up amongst the snow and cold winds, which send the Everest people back burnt to the colour of mahogany. We so enjoyed the brief time that Ron was able to spend with us, for he had to go off by the Bombay mail at 8.30 or so that evening, so as to see Bill in Bombay, before catching his boat home. There was so much to tell, and so little time, but Ron gave us a very good impression of his adventures, of which I should like to hear much more. We went round to visit H.D. and Winsome and see the children. Charlotte was looking most bonny and fat, but was sound asleep, while John was full of vigour and chat. Later we moved on to the Saturday Club to listen to the band and drink beer, and meet one or two people. Ron and I spent part of the afternoon lying full length on the drawing-room floor, looking at maps, which were enthrallingly interesting. A map that is just fresh off the country it shows, has a special flavour, like milk fresh from the cow! Herbert felt well enough to go out to tea at Tollygunge, and we had to get back in time to meet Major Meade of the Survey who wanted to see Ron. H.D. and Winsome came to an early dinner and escorted Ron to the station, as I had an old friend, Bry Jones, who was in from the country for a few days, to dinner and the Pictures.
On Monday evening I had a large Cocktail party, of 35 people, the excuse for the party being to see a film of the opening of the Teesta Bridge, in which we all appeared. It was a good film, and quite an amusing evening. Herbert did not feel quite equal to facing the party, and retired to the roof room, with his book and his gramaphone, and only came down right at the end, when only two or three of our real cronies, like the Fawcuses and the Craigs were left.
I must get on with some other letters now.
Best love to you all
LJT
From LJT to Annette
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
Nov 30th 1933
My darling Annette,
The arrangement of the posts this year, is about as awkward as it well could be. I cant be sure that next week’s posting will reach you on Xmas day, and this weeks is so far in advance. As I have just said to Rosemary, you much keep my good wishes and greetings stored up and bring them out for yourselves on Christmas morning. I wonder what you are choosing for a Christmas present, and whether you have decided on your birthday present. It seems rather a reversal of the usual custom, when it is day and I who are excited to hear what we have given you!
In spite of your fears, you seem to have done pretty well up to half term. I am glad you got a good remark about your German. How have you been enjoying the special French with the half French girl?
I have got the most appaling amount of letters to write to-day so will you forgive me if I leave this as the smallest note of love and good wishes, with the news all in the family budget?
Best love, my darling
From
Mum
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
Nov 30th 1933
My dear Annette.
A happy Christmas, my dear child, unaccompanied by excesses of any kind! my consolation in not being home to share the fun and to beam Pickwickian approbation on my offspring is the thought that I might be glum. Merriment is far from me oftentimes.
Recovered from dysentery I still suffer from its after effects – weakness and the hump, approaching to despair. As always after this sort of thing – (malaria, dengue, influenza and such) – I can see no reason why the weakness and depression should ever pass: and as always they will go suddenly without my realising it: as well I know. Your mother is more (I was going to write “metaphorical”; my attention wandered) philosophical and says that if I will overwork I must expect sooner or later to crumple up with some ailment or other. Which is true. But I cannot say that it is comfort.
During these days I have reverted to the French records. Much worried by the pronunciation of a word which seemed contrary to everything that should be: found it again on another record pronounced differently: and then realised that there was a misprint in the book: an “l” doubled wrongly. It is this sort of thing which convicts me of being slip-shod and unobservant. As I lay in bed last week I played with myself the game of fitting words to pictures of things: Larousse the French dictionary has at the beginning of the section dealing with each letter a number of pictures of things of which the name will be found in that section. Q, for example, which had me beat – has 40, a cup, a bar of music, 4, 14, 15, 80 a chinaman’s head, a woman collecting money from a well dressed (?)crowd, a distaff, some boys fighting, ninepins, a quay – and so on. Most of them had me beat as I have said: even when I looked through the section. Humiliating!
The Doctor has given me a noble assortment of medicines. Something to take at almost any time in the days. They cancel each other out, probably.
Much love
Daddy