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The Townend Family Letters

Correspondence from the 1930s - 1940s between members of the Townend family
HPV + LJT Letters 1939 to 1941

1940 September

From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
Sept 3rd 1940

My darling Annette,

Your letter of July 12th, was waiting for me when I got home about 12.45 a.m. on Saturday night, that was August 31st, and it was a pleasure to get it and interesting to hear all your news. There are still certain puzzling features, for evidently there is another letter of yours that is still on the way or that has been lost, for this is the first one from you, since the little scrap written at the end of the exam period, just to tell us that you were still alive and well, and you mention another letter in which you evidently told about getting your present job. I suppose you told Mr Cape’s friend Miss - - - - (I’ve forgotten her name) that you were taking this job? We both had letters from Mr Cape by the same post as yours, but he did not then know that you had got a First. We were very interested in your marks. They show an excellent steady standard all through, and Dad is much impressed by the fact that you got an alpha plus for your Special Subject. Bravo! Bravo! as Uncle Roy used to say in moments of emotion. There’s evidently plenty of work for those that are capable of doing it, judging from the speed with which you were put into a job. when I hear people moaning that its impossible to get anything to do, I have often had a sneaking feeling, that perhaps they were not very employable, or at least, only for the very simplest work. Somehow its rather nice that you are connected with the Air Ministry. In the great Trinity of Defense, its playing such an outstanding part. - - I mean, of course, the Air Force, which it represents. Magda Elliot, your god-mother, was working in the Air Ministry, during the last war. When its all over and lips are unsealed, it will be interesting to compare the sort of work that you are doing, with what she did. Was it pure chance that you got into the same Department with Pam and Betty, or did you have a choice? Its rather nice to know that Uncle Bous and Aunt Cecil are in the neighbourhood, so that you can see them now and again. The question of money is still slightly worrying me. I dont know how much you will need. However my letter on the subject which I sent off by Air Mail on June 26th, must surely have reached you not long after you wrote this letter (unless indeed it had reached you before and your answer is in the missing one) and I may hear both from and from Grindlays’ before the end of this month, when I must give the final orders for the next six months. If you could manage with an allowance of £100 a year, it will be a help to us, for Dad will be on half pay for three and a half months of his six months leave, and I am anxious to save something if I can, in case we dont come back to India, and want to make the expensive journey home via Canada and America. Its going to cost us quite a bit going to New Zealand and back, of course. However I dont want you to be seriously skimped in any way. From your letter it is not clear whether you pay your own lodging, or whether it is paid by Government. Also I have little idea what it would cost to live as you are doing. Dont breathe a word of it in your letters, but I have a hope in the back of my mind that when Dad is fit again, it might be possible for him to find some job connected with work for the War, either paid or unpaid, in N.Z. or Australia, and that he might stay and work in one of those countries “for the duration”. I dont want him to come back to this country if I can help it. Its not only breaking his health, but its also breaking his heart. He does not know of my plan yet, nor is the time ripe to tell him, and it may prove quite out of the question. We shall see!

I’m awfully sorry that Anne did not get a First, but Dad says that brains alone will never win one. There must be some good steady work to back them. Its quite right that it should be so, because its the ability to work at dull things when necessary, and to be steady, that counts so much in the value of any individual in the world. Were you the only one from Sommerville who got a First in Modern Languages? Its certainly “sucks” for Cap!

Well, my dear, its really grand to hear that you are working away so happily in a useful job, and that you got down to it so quickly. I feel I ought to begin sending you best wishes for you twenty first birthday soon, because I have no idea how long letters will take, and we may be on the high seas in a Dutch Boat on The Day*. It looks as if you will have to keep any major celebration till more peaceful times

Best love
Mother

* and not able to cable.


Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah

Bengal

Sept 4th 1940

My dears,

Again I am starting my letter early, because Herbert has to be in Calcutta both on Thursday and Friday, and I am going down with him.  We are staying the night with Harry.  Winsome has taken Charlotte and Nurse up to Darjeeling, and wont be back for another week or so.  We have to lunch at Government House to-morrow, and if there is a film which Herbert fancies, we go to it at three o’clock.  As Herbert works on Saturdays and Sundays and holidays when he is here, we do not feel that he is displaying laziness by going to an occasional film at 3 o’clock on a weekday afternoon.  Busy though I am, the thought of yesterday’s anniversary was constantly in and out of my mind.  What a chapter of history has been written and what bitter lessons many of us have learnt.  Its wonderful though to get the strong impression that we certainly do, that Britain is cheerful and full of hope, and refusing to be upset to any major degree by the constant air-raids.  It must be pretty grim, all the same, to live with the possibility of danger always over your head!

Sept 7th  Well!  I did not get very far with my attempt to start this letter in good time.  We had two full days in Calcutta.  On Thursday we did not get in till 12 o’clock, the time of Herbert’s meeting, and I only had time to do some work for the Himalayan Club, and make one or two phone calls, before it was time to go back and pick Herbert up to go to the lunch at Government House.  It was not a party.  The only other guest was Lieutenant Massoutier, the new Administrateur of Chandanagore, and three people who were staying in the house.  H.E. and Lady Mary were very pleasant, but he certainly does not give one the impression that he is the man to manage what I suppose is about the most difficult Province in India in these complicated days.  We did go to a film in the afternoon - - rather a stupid gangster film called “Brother Orchid”.  There was some good acting and some amusing remarks in it, but I dont like gangster films. Its a pity that Herbert’s and my taste varies so completely in the films we like, and that he does not like going alone, for often there is one on that I would like to see, but that does not suit him.  We went to see Gracie Fields in “Shipyard Sally”, yesterday afternoon, and though I liked it better than the gangster film, still its so silly in its construction that the charm of Gracie is rather too heavily counterbalanced.  It was nice to have a quiet evening with Harry on Thursday.  He kindly lent me his car for the morning, so there were no complications about fitting in the different places to which Herbert and I wanted to go.  His first port of call, poor dear, was the dentist.  Luckily it was nothing serious - - only a very small stopping which had come out, and had to be re-done.  He had a long meeting after that, and did not get away from it till lunch-time.  Meantime I was busy about all manner of things, and I also just got through my business in time for lunch.  We met at the Janvrins, and enjoyed spending an hour or so with them.  Herbert survived these two days in Calcutta a good deal better than most of his visits lately, perhaps because he took the time off and relaxed while watching two quite silly films.

I seem to have spent a lot of time in Calcutta lately, for I was down there last Saturday.  Edward Groth gave me lunch and a lot of advice about Java, where he spent four years.  In spite of his descriptions, I rather doubt if we shall do the journey practically the whole length of Java by train, breaking journey at several show spots.  I think it will be expensive, as well as rather hot and tiring.  I have a feeling that we would rather keep what money we have to spend in New Zealand, which country will appeal to us a great deal more than Java, I fancy.  I rather suspect that the scenery in Java does not alter much from the one end of the Island to the other.  We shall see all the different altitudes as we go up the two hour journey from Batavia to Soekaboemi, and we should probably go on to Badoeng, which is still higher.  From these places one can make expeditions to the craters of a number of volcanoes, and I think that will probably satisfy us.  I have partly been influenced in this idea by the fact that there is no difference in the price of our steamer tickets whether we embark at Batavia, or two days later at Sourabaya.  Thomas Cook whose office I had visited that morning, could give me little information about New Zealand, except that they had a time table with train and car fares, and that they allowed me to take away a very useful map.  This plus a sort of chatty guide book in narrative form, which I got from the U.S. Club Library (written in a most infuriating style!) have given me a pretty good notion of places to go, and I confess the more I read, the more I find my heart set on the South Island!  I think we shall not linger very long in the North Island, but push on fairly soon to Christchurch, where I think I shall be able to get into touch with some of the mountaineers with whom I corresponded so much last year, when they were planning an attack on Kanchenjunga.

I did not get back till just on 1 a.m. on Saturday, for I dined with a man who has the whole of Don Giovanni on gramaphone records, and though we listened to nearly half of it before dinner, yet it was late before the little party broke up.  I enjoyed the evening enormously.  The records, made by the Glynbourne Opera co. Are excellent, and we were each provided with a copy of the libretto, Italian on one side, and English on the other.  It is really a treat to hear some music like that.

There seems a great deal to do before we go away.  Handing over jobs to other people always seems to make more work than just carrying on.  I have practically delt with the War Work now.  I give over the Himalayan Club on the 12th, but I still have no one for the Guides, though Mrs Chakravarty will take them on if no one else is forth-coming.  The difficulty is that she has to learn the work.  The books are packed and the house looks so naked without them!  I wonder when and where I shall see them again!  I have cleared out quite a lot, and sent a bundle to the college, another to an Indian Club, and took a lot down to the “Literature for the Troops” depot.  Its unfortunate that we have got into the real sticky, steamy September weather just as its time to pack!  I must really begin to get down to it next week! 

The thing I am going to miss when we go away is being able to listen to my own wireless!  Its been interesting, and in a way rather sad, to hear recently, both Professor Joad and Professor Laski declaring that they are no longer pacifists, and that they realize that there is something far worse than war and that is the domination of the world by Nazism.  I say sad, because they must have influenced so many young adolescents to embrace the pacifist creed, and its likely that quite a few of these young people, who have not yet developed enough to see round and beyond things, are sticking to this false idealism.  Its good to hear of the naval and air successes in the Mediterranean.  I wish our fleet could catch the Italians!

We have had more letters from home.  A sea-mail with a letter from Annette posted on July 12th, and others from May, and from Poppy Dunn, posted on 17th July, all received here on August 31st.  Then Harry got a letter from Grace, and I, one from Gavin, posted on 26th July and received here on Sept 5th.  There are still two or three weeks of letters, which left England in the latter part of June or beginning of July, missing, not only ours, but everybody’s.  Did they get on to an astonishingly slow ship? or has the ship they  are on been diverted to Australia?  I hope it has not been sunk, but if it had been surely we should have heard by now?  It was most interesting to hear what Annette is doing - - In fact all the letters were interesting and gave us pleasure.  I hope to have time to catch up with back correspondence when we are on board ship.  I certainly wont have much time before.

Best love to you all

LJT

From LJT to Romey

Sept 8th, 1940 Chinsurah

My darling Rosemary,

We have been rather hoping we should get another letter from you this week, as it is a fortnight since your last letter came-- but perhaps, even on the “Pacific” side of the world, the mails are not running very regularly. The letters from England are coming in the oddest way. After an enormous gap, we have just got letters from Richard dated 13th June and 2nd July -- Ah! That made me pause and look carefully at the postmarks and I see that both were posted on July 2nd, so it is not so odd after all! Our Richard evidently wrote and just forgot to post the letter. When I got the letters, I was sorry I had written a string of complaints to him just before and sent it to the post, that now I see how absent-minded he has been, I am quite glad for the complaints to go!
I wonder if this story told by Richard had drifted through to you. On hearing of the Fall of France and some pessimistic comments about the probability of invasion, a man in the Mess said “We’ve still got a Navy haven’t we?” Hitler may be Lord God Almighty, but he isn’t Jesus Christ, so that he can walk on the Sea” --Besides their training work, the budding “Observers” have to do a certain number of watches, now that air attack is becoming so common and though it means a certain loss of sleep, Richard says there is a charm in watching in the night and seeing the dawn come.
I‘m sending a letter from Dad this week, which means there’s not room for the family one - but it isn’t very interesting and will reach you eventually via England. Chiefly at present, I am busy with all the arrangements about packing and disposing of our things and going over my various jobs; Himalayan Club, War Work, Girl Guides and little things to do with Church etc.
Our finances need quite a lot of working out for the next six or seven months. Government Rules about leave pay are intricate enough when one is going to draw pay in England, but when one is going first to a “foreign” country, like Java and then on to a Dominion like New Zealand, they become more elaborate still. However, I think I have everything fairly clear now and it only remains to do a certain amount of arithmetic about how much money has to be sent in different directions and how much we shall have left for our own expenses.
Did I tell you that the calves of my legs have grown fat, and I have had to have my riding boots let out? My Chinese boot-maker has done it very neatly. I hope we can get some riding in N.Z. I have just got out all my warm clothes this morning - as I know there are some skirts that need shortening and a few alterations made. Woolen things feel awful in this hot sticky weather! It’s going to be an awful job to find out what Dad wants to take with him! I think I’ll just have to make up my mind and risk doing the wrong thing.
Uncle Harry and Winsome are a little sad to think that they won’t see your letters after we have gone, and will be dependent on John’s own not very informative letters for news of him. Will you try to write to them every now and again, -- or if there is a typewriter handy, you might be able to make carbon-copies of your letters and send one to them. They appreciate seeing your letters tremendously. Isn’t it lucky they are so fond of you? I think it is a very great comfort to them to know that you are with John. You have always been one of Winsome’s “favorites”, as you know. She is very definite about whom she likes and whom she does not!
A letter has turned up from Annette telling us something of her job at the Air Ministry and also giving us her marks for her exam. In case she did not tell you, I will pass them on. She got Alpha Plus for her Special subject (which has impressed Dad very much) an Alpha 4, Alpha Minus Minus, 3 Beta Plus Plus, 2 Beta Plus and 1 Beta and Oral Distinction for French ---so it seems a pretty good record. It seems Annette was the only one to get a First.
I can scarcely believe that in just a month, we may be getting on to a ship and going off to unknown places. You can’t imagine how I am longing to see Dad less tired. He has become very keen on the stars and board ship should be a good place to study them. It is really marvelous how much he has learnt. He seems to know nearly all the constellations now. It’s just like him to be so thorough over anything he takes up.
Every year I save my own flower seeds, storing them in bottles with wax over the corks. I have just given my collection away to Mrs. MacKenzie, as we shall have no use for them this year-- but I have begged her to preserve my precious bottles, gathered over several years, in case we come back. I wonder whether we shall. How glorious it would be if the war came to an end and we were able to go home across Canada next summer!

Please give our greetings to Susie and Helen and love to John, with best love and blessings to yourself,
Mother

From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
Sept 11th 1940.

My darling Annette,

This has been a grand week for letters! I think the topsy turvey mails have at last caught up with themselves. Your long and most interesting letter about your exams, and about getting your present job, and many other things, reached us on Sept 9th, and so, by my counting, it had been eleven weeks on the way, whereas the one written on July 12th, only took seven weeks. We now have your history complete, and Rosemary’s only lacks the account of the voyage, which she sent by sea from Canada, not having then realized that there was an air mail. Thank you for the part you took in getting the children off. I am sorry your kindness in going back to Oxford to get the papers signed etc, was rewarded by so many difficulties and disappointments about trains. I am glad you had a little comic relief when you saw your friends Phillip and Michael tying up the china in a rug! Really all this series of letters about you exam and your job, and the childrens’ departure, and all the doings at Highways, are extremely vivid. Aunt, too, really writes an excellent letter from the point of view of people far away, who interested in the daily doings of a family at home. She does not bother her head about style, any more than she troubles about theories on the subject of bringing up children, but just goes ahead and sets down on paper in a straightforward way, what she has to tell, in the same excellent way that she has always gone straight ahead, and done what seemed best and most sensible for the children under her charge. Dicky has been very Dickyish! I was complaining bitterly in my last letters that I had not heard from him since the middle of May. Half an hour after my letters had gone to post, two letters arrived from him, one started on June 6th and continued on June 14th, and the other written on July 2nd. At first I felt sorry that I had written complaints, but the next morning something made me look at the post-marks on the letters and behold! both had been posted on July 2nd!

There are so many things to talk to you about now, that, like you, I dont know where to begin! First, about your job.:- both Dad and I think you were quite right to take it. The prime consideration now, is to be doing something that the country really wants, and since the Air Ministry people were down at Oxford so quickly, it seems evident that girls with your sort of qualifications were needed at once. As to the future, I feel pretty confident that the quality of the degree you took, plus the fact that you started work for Government immediately, will pretty well insure that you will stand a very good chance of getting into the Civil Service after the War if you want to. I have little fear that you wont make a success of your work, for, as I think I have said before, you have that invaluable quality, which does not by any means always go with intelligence, and that is reliability. When I have a tiny bit more time I will write to Sir Harry Lindsay, George Pilcher, and Miss Martindale, and tell them what you are doing, in case you have not done so. It will be just as well to keep our touch with them, for they are all people who might be helpful after the war. I confess I have felt a certain relief that you have not been in London the last few nights. I am glad Berliners were kept awake too last night, not to mention Hamburgers and many others. Yes! I am sorry that quite so much vindictiveness is growing up. Uncle Harry has that same attitude, and I cant altogether sympathize with it. On the other hand I do believe that the German nation as a whole, does need a very strong demonstration of our power, and I also think that they must collectively bear the blame for the war and for the Nazis, for if it was not their approval it was at any rate their indifference that put Hitler into power and kept him there. Its just the same when people pour out blame on the Chamberlain Government. it seems to me that most of us must share that blame, for the great majority of people agreed with Chamberlain in wanting to preserve peace at almost any price.

To revert to your exam and to your tests for this job: Dad seemed to understand your feelings when you saw mistakes, which you were sure you had never made, in your own handwriting! Having never done an exam of any magnitude or on which anything important depended I’ve never experienced such feelings. Poor Anne! Fate was unkind to arrange for her to have a cold at that time, but I think there is a good deal of truth in what you say about it only being when people turn out failures later in life, that people look back to see what sort of a degree they have taken. There are one or two men in the I.C.S in Bengal who are a source of wonder to us, for they seem so stupid that one wonders how they ever managed to do their entrance exam! I am sorry to hear that Joey has now taken up communism. Its a pity that with all her intelligence, she is so easily fascinated with fresh “isms” and “ologys” on the very slightest grounds. Its something, at any rate that Frank has now become a L.D.V and seems to feel that he would not be quite so comfortable under Nazi rule as he is under the easy going British regime. In a letter I had from Gavin last week, he defended his case as a Pacifist, but I must say I thought his arguments were poor tripy stuff. He seems to me to be in some way hiding behind a sort of facade, acting a part, - - I dont quite know how to put it. His letters dont ring quite true. He has an eye on the audience. I’m sorry, - - sorry for him because I think a lack of honesty always makes for unhappiness in the end, - - and sorry for Uncle and Aunt, because it must be a sorrow to them. Oh I am thankful that Richard grew out of his pacifism before the War came!

Thanks so much for the photos. I like these of you very much. An interesting feature of them is that in one or two I fancy I can see a look of myself which I have never been able to spot in you before. There is quite a marked likeness to my mother as shown in some of her early pictures. You give the impression of one in good health and spirits. Its odd about that other one of you with the children and the animals. It was not that I did not like it: I just did not recognise it. The professional picture of Dicky I dont think very good. but I’m glad to have it. The one of him with Romey is awfully nice.

Your comment that you were starting seriously on Italian and found it so easy to read that you could not believe it true, came on top of my experience the other evening when I was following the libretto of “Don Giovanni” with the Italian (in which the opera was being sung) with an English rendering in a parallel column. Naturally it was easy when the English was before me, but I found I could pick out so many of the words without looking at the English.

I am asking Aunt to send you a cheque, because the Air mail letters go over-weight so easily, and the fact that it has her signature on it instead of mine, does not make it any the less the birthday gift, with our very best love and good wishes from Dad and myself. And I would like to say at the moment when you become legally your own mistress, that you have been the most satisfactory child to have and to bring up. Barring the terrible trouble of your eye, which you have always born with great fortitude, you have really never given me the slightest worry or anxiety. I have always felt sure that in any situation, you would do the most sensible thing. Your achievements at Oxford, have given us great delight, and we both appreciate the fact that no amount of natural intelligence, could have got you the place you took, if it had not been backed by plenty of real hard work. One does not often speak about these things, but believe me, I often think of them, and feel grateful. I hope your life will be happy and well fulfilled. I am confident you will know what joy it is to contemplate a good job, well done. All you young people are having a stiff time in these days of struggle and trial, and it seems you are standing up to the trials very well indeed. Pray God the time of peace may not be too long delayed, and that the reckoning afterwards may not prove too grim a problem to solve with any sort of happiness and contentment. This letter is likely to reach you somewhere about your birthday I think, so here’s the best of good wishes to you, and many happy returns of the day. Love and blessings
Mother


From LJT to Annette (hand written on back of letter ‘Annette for her birthday’)

Chinsurah
Bengal
Sept 14th 1940

The War makes it impossible to celebrate your Coming-of-Age in a suitable fashion, my dear daughter, but the hopes and wishes for your future and congratulations on your past achievements are none the less deep for that. I do hope this will reach you on the right day. The War and the slowness and uncertainty of mails, has also made it impossible to give you a nice surprise present, so I have had to fall back and asking Aunt to send you Five Pounds with our love and very best wishes. If there is something you want to buy for your self, which costs another pound or so, let me know and I will most gladly send the extra money.

Dad intended to write to you when we got back from Calcutta last night, but was too exhausted, and he has not had a chance to-day, for he has had numbers of visitors, and a mass of urgent papers to deal with. I think he will be posting a letter to-morrow by air mail in the hope it will catch the plane, and get to you by your birthday.

Bless you, my dear and again our warmest love and good wishes to you

Mother


Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah
Bengal
Sept 14th 1940.


My Dears,

his is going to be a short letter, for a variety of reasons. The first is time! I had to do some packing this morning, because the village tin-smith is a badmash, and, being the only one here, thought he could charge me what he liked for soldering up all the tin lined cases in which the tiger skins and books are packed. The driver has got over this difficulty by engaging a man, who works at one of the jute mills, for the whole day, but he can only come on a Sunday. Therefore to-day being Saturday I had to bustle round, and get the book boxes finished off. The second reason is that we have had lots of letters from home since last Saturday, and I have therefore a lot of things to say and questions to answer in the individual letters to the children and others. (I am sorry for the crazy spacing above. I dont know what has happened to the machine, but I have now resorted to my usual cure of giving it some oil and hope it will be better.) It has been grand to get so many letters. At last the gaps have been filled. Letters posted in the middle of June took eleven weeks to come, whereas others dated July 12th took seven weeks, and arrived a fortnight sooner. As well as these, there have been the sea/air mails which are taking three to four weeks. We have now heard about the arrival of the invitation to Romey and John to go to Canada, and all the rushing round to get their passages and papers, so nobly undertaken by Grace, Peg and Annette, to all of whom, warm thanks! Next there is the news of Annette’s test and acceptance of her job, and long-waited letters from Richard. It makes one feel more settled and happy to know the details of what has happened, especially when the news is so satisfactory.

About ourselves, there’s not really so much to tell. Herbert has been working and working, as usual. I have been making over my jobs to various people. I gave over the management of the European Work party on Monday, and on Tuesday we had a meeting of the Executive Committee of the Indian Ladies War Purposes Committee, at which I handed my responsibilities on to Mrs Chakravarty till such time as a new Commissioner’s wife comes. On Thursday I went to Calcutta and we had a Himalayan Club Committee meeting at which I handed over the Secretaryship of that, so now I am free of almost all my responsibilities for outside things. There remain only the Girl Guides and the Church accounts. With the tiger skins down from the dining room and Hall walls, and all the silver and books packed, the house begins to look as if a flit is about to take place. Luckily my old friend Mrs Haldar is coming here, and she is glad to let all our furniture and boxes stay here, and to undertake the sending to Calcutta if we never come back. That simplifies everything very much.

Since the terrible air raids began over London, and news reached us that so many preparations which look as if an attempt at invasion is to take place, we feel that we want to turn on each news bulletin as it comes through. It is hard to grasp at all what it must be like. Fires burning, bombs on Buckingham palace, and the thousand and one dangers and inconveniences defy the imaginations of us, who have not experienced them. I am glad that I have so many things demanding attention, though I wish they were things to help win the war, and not simply preparations for our leave.

Its been a hot sticky week, till Thursday afternoon when heavy rain began and went on at intervals all yesterday, sending the temperature down with a bump, and to-day, though its fine, its still reasonably cool.

As I had to be in Calcutta on Thursday, and subsequent to my arrangement Herbert was informed that he had to be down for a meeting on Friday, I went in by train and borrowed a friends’ car on Thursday and stayed the night with Harry and Winsome – the latter just back from Darjeeling and looking very well. I have a suspicion that the paper is about to run out, so before it does, here’s our love to you all, and constant prayers for your safety.

LJT

From LJT to Romey

Sept 15th, 1940 Chinsurah

My darling Romey,

We have had such a splendid budget of letters this week, some dated the middle of June and one from Aunt dated August 1st! At last all the gaps are filled, except your letters describing the voyage, and I have great hopes that they will come soon. It is now nearly three weeks since we had letters from you, so we suppose that you have given up using the air mail. I believe I told you that I thought it was a bit too expensive to go on with, and now I am sorry!
Once we are in N.Z., I don’t think there will be any choice, for letters direct by boat will be as quick, as ones sent by air via Singapore to Australia, and then on by boat, which I think would be the only alternative,---but I don’t really know.
I have had an idea about the difficulty of sending letters to Uncle Harry and Winsome. This typewriter is extremely old, and I only carry on with it till such time as we leave India, when I intend to get a new one. Now, you can type a bit, and with very little practice you could learn to type, at any rate, quite as fast as you write. My suggestion is that you should buy a typewriter, possibly out of that extra balance of money standing to Dad’s credit with the Eastern Trust Co, and use it to write your letters, making several carbon copies, just as I do. You could then do one letter, sending copies to me, Winsome and to Aunt, just adding any little special bits for special people at the end, or on another sheet. Eventually, when the war is over, and we go home via Canada, or you come to India, or we go in different directions round the world, and meet in England, I could take the typewriter over, if you have not by that time become so attached to it that you need it for yourself! You would need to get thin typing paper, and the thin carbon. If you take the ordinary, you will find it bulky. Do you think that is a good plan? I taught myself to type, using the right fingering, in a week, doing the exercises for half and hour every morning. I don’t type blind, and I type badly, but even so, it serves.
Amongst the letters we got last week, it seemed odd to get one dated the 16th June, which was written before you got the news about going to Canada. I am glad that you had “the guts” not to want to leave England in her moment of great danger, but I am also glad that you had the steady common sense to see that it was the right thing to do for all our sakes. It must have been a rush getting all the papers, though, and I think it was wonderful that Aunt got you off so quickly. What a good soul she is!
Either this week or the next, I shall probably post to you a pale beige lace garden-party frock, with a long, rather full-skirted coat. I think it could be made into an evening or party frock for you, if you ever want such things. If it is no use, well, it won’t be much use to me here, of it is already out-of-fashion for day wear, and I don’t want to take it to New Zealand, nor should I be likely to want it if we do come back to India next Hot Weather. So only the postage will be wasted.
I’ve just been writing letters for Annette’s “Twenty-First!” I wish she could have had a party! Still, after all a party is a small thing compared with the work she is doing, and the times she is living in. It is difficult to know when to send birthday wishes to you, for I don’t know how long letters will take, so if I don’t hit off anything approaching the right day, you must forgive, and realize that I shall be thinking of you. On 17th November, we shall probably just have left Java and be moving along through that huge archipelago of islands. I wonder whether you will approve of my idea of a pair of proper skating boots and skates as a birthday present?

Best love you Susie, Helen and John and heaps for yourself,
Mother

From LJT to Romey

Sept 19, 1940, Chinsurah

My darling Romey,

We have a feast of letters to thank you for this week. First there was your long letter with a most excellent account of your journey, and the arrival in Winnipeg, which had come by sea, and took eight weeks and two days to reach us, arriving here last Tuesday, the 16th. The next day, the 17th, I got your letter written on Sept 1st and also that of August 25th (which, as you explained, had missed the mail because you were fastened up to the ceiling getting your hair permed).We have enjoyed them all so much. You must take a great deal of time and trouble to write at such length, but I do assure you, you would be rewarded if you could realize how much pleasure and comfort you give not only to Dad and me, but also to Harry and Winsome, with whom we are sharing what you write.
Now I am going to take your letters in turn, because, even if it is a bit dull for you to read comments on what you have done and said, it gives pleasure to me to chew over what we have heard! Anyhow, I’ve little to write in the way of news, for I have been packing and sorting an making lists etc.Your letter about the voyage is really of more than personal interest, for it gives a vivid picture of traveling under war-conditions. They must have been bad moments when you found you were rushing through Glasgow to Grenock, and what a relief when you finally got on the ship! It is lucky that your are not too shy, nervous and retiring, or you would have been in a dreadful stew! The Clyde is lovely, isn’t it? Mrs. Hamilton’s house at Rhu is almost opposite Grenock, and from the room I slept in, I could lie in bed and look out towards the mouth of the Clyde.
By the way, the page describing the ships and escort etc, was not taken out by the censor. It was intelligent of you to put everything that you thought might conceivably be censorable on one sheet together. The variety of your friends on the ship is carrying on your old tradition. You were always “a one” for making al sorts of friends on board ship. You must have made quite an impression on Sir Norman Angell for him to take so much notice of you and write to you from New York. I daresay he was quite glad not to talk politics. The great thing is never to pretend to knowledge that you have not got. The most important thing of all is to be true and genuine. How many people make themselves almost unbearable by being pretentious! I don’t think it is in your nature at all, and if it were, life at Highways would have been a good cure. I’d like to have heard some of the firsthand stories from the men who had been at Narvik. Talking to them must have been extremely interesting. I should think you will look back and remember that voyage, when you are an old lady, and still think of it as something rather strange.
Dad wonders whether there was the same difficulty in getting John to wash on the ship that you found on the train. It must have been rather thrilling being greeted by so many people all along the route of the journey, and I should think it helped to make the days less long. Thank you again, my dear, for writing at such length.
Now we come to your other two letters, the first chiefly about the Holiday Camp in Canada, where you seem to have had a marvelous time! You are admirably fitted for that sort of life, and I am sure you must have enjoyed it. It was good of Cousin Susie to take you. I am glad to hear that you made a creditable showing with your knowledge of botany and natural history on the Nature Trail walk.
What an extraordinary thing about finding the gold signet ring after eighteen months! The fact that it was as good as new is not really extraordinary, though, because gold remains unspoilt and untarnished for thousands of years. I’ve see golden ornaments and statuettes dug up from Ur of the Chaldees, which are five or six thousand years old, and some of them were delicate crowns of flowers made in fine gold leaf, too. Tutankamen’s ornaments might just have come from a jeweler’s shop.
It will be exciting to see a picture of you with your hair curled . I am almost sure it will be a help to you ad I expect it looks nice. It will be most awfully thrilling to see a film of you and John, and it is a bit tantalizing that it will be such a long time before it eventually reaches us! No! I had never heard of this business of using both sides of the film. Like you, I thought the light shone through the film to project it, and would have imagined that with pictures on both sides, the two would mix and blur.
It is sensible of Susie and you to send John to St John’s School. If Ravenscourt has the smallest sign of being snobby, I am sure you were right to avoid it. It was a bit of luck that Helen knows the Dean of the College (University?) and could arrange for you to have an interview, for that will be a great help in settling what you will do. It does seem odd that the standard is so much lower than that of English Universities, doesn’t it? My poor girl! It is sad for you that Maths are compulsory, but let us hope they are really good for the mind, as the educationalists always tell us.
It must be a great satisfaction to you that your riding is so well thought of. I am amused at your remarks about the horse who went quite well once she realized that you were out for a ride and not for a picnic. How often I have experienced that in Darjeeling. I have sometimes changed ponies with three or four people who had ponies who, so they said, would not go. Each time I have taken the pony, I have immediately taken the lead. This sounds dreadfully like blowing one’s own trumpet, but I don’t mean it that way. I mean it as an illustration of what a difference it makes if you know something about managing a horse. Your army band must have been a bit of a surprise, and it reminds me of an experience I had in Jalpaiguri. I was riding a frisky young chestnut mare, lent me by a friend. I came round a corner, and met three of our elephants face to face. The mare went straight up on her hind legs, and whirled round, intending to bolt, but luckily I was able to control her. I turned her back towards the elephants, and calling to the mahouts to keep them as still and quiet as possible, I eventually got the mare past, by dint of much talk, neck stroking and pressure from knees and heels. I would like to have taken her past elephants again the next day, but she left, because she was only up in Jalpai for the camp. The old horse dealer who taught me to ride, impressed upon me the importance of horse mastery, always by kindness and firmness, backed by quiet concentration of will. It certainly works in most cases.
You must be rather glad that this girl Rosamund has turned up, but what a bore for her that her Aunt won’t let her do anything. It’s been lucky for me, and for you, that Aunt so entirely agreed with my views that children should stand on their own feet and learn to look after themselves as early as possible. It’s nearly always the people who are full of fear, and who are not accustomed to managing their own affairs, who get themselves tied up in trouble. After all, what sort of creature is a human being who, when reasonably adult, cannot stand on his or her own feet? Of course, there are problems and difficulties where a longer experience of life comes in handy, and where older people can help the young, but that’s rather different. Thank goodness Cousin Susie does not feel she ought always to be sending someone running after you.

Best love to you all,
Mother


Family letter from HPV (not in AMT’s set of letters – this one typed by Joan Webb)

Sept 20th, 1940
Chinsurah
My dears,

There is no need to tell you that owing to carelessness and such, I am too late for birthday greetings to everyone. However, there is no harm in sending the appropriate wishes however late they may be, and by all means accept them. About my failure to write in time to Annette, I am particularly remorseful, but I may say that there is the less feeling that her twenty-firster was an event because of that singular maturity of judgement on which I have congratulated her in the past. It is a sidelight on the typing ability of all citizens of the U.S.A. that the Readers’ Digest mentions the possibility of typing several lines in capitals if the shift-key is locked by mistake; there is no possibility of my doing more than a few letters at a time without having a good look at the result, even if I have to gaze firmly at the keys the whole time.
I am much pleased with Richard, with Annette and with Rosemary for their general excellence; him I congratulate on his escaping the pangs of air-sickness by getting used to them. Annette on getting the war job, though I am sorry that they did her out of full pay due to merit on the excuse of her youth, and Rosemary on acquiescence in exile and readiness to make the best of things.
Oh! Oh! What a miserable contraption a typewriter is when one cannot play on it with the proper number of fingers and especially when one is manipulating it sitting on a low stool with the machine on the side of a string bed, and with the wireless giving the news from Saigon in a sort of roar. How good it must seem to all of you, except the miserable Gavin, to know that you are English these days!
We had the Administrator of the French Chandernagore in today paying a call; he had heard that I was going on leave. Amazing how hard it was to switch on the talking of French suddenly. We had not expected him and attuned the mind to the thought of speaking French beforehand. I believe that it would not be very difficult now to learn to talk it, if only I had a skeleton of verbal phrases to hang words onto. Ignorance does not prevent one from being eloquent; witness the speech that I did not really make at Chandernagore on Bastille Day.
All our books have been packed with the exception of those not to be taken on the voyage, such things as information on running Bengali villages, or heavy works on sewage disposal and so on--- so that I have gone back to one of the few French books remaining to me, the Dame herself. Having read most of it ten times or more, I should by now be able to string sentences together, but I am not superieurement doue dans l’order des aptitudes particulieres que reclame the task of doing that. What a language! But I suspect that the above phrase which delighted me so that I learnt it by heart, is jargon of the worst. We are full of hope, though why I cannot say, that Rosemary will pursue her French with vigor and success.
It is the next day. Afternoon. I am heavy with that indigestion that attends on all meals, but I have got rid of two of the old files. Provided that I can make an effort this afternoon, provided too that H.D., my brother, and Winsome do not arrive too early, I might perhaps get rid of the other four. That would be wonderful.
Bless you all …… I am appalled to look back over this and see how it surpasses my worst apprehensions of dullness. Sad omen of departure. We have given to the District Magistrate a whole lorry load of my laboriously manufactured compost. Two tons of it or more. It has left a sorry hole in my stores. There is moreover no longer real joy in cutting off deads in the flower garden. Resignation is the only course.

Much love,
Dad


Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah
Bengal
Sept 20th 1940

My Dears,

Once again I am writing you a short letter, for I am very busy, and truly I have not a great deal to write about. My thoughts are firstly for all of you, in the ordeal of the great air war. Do we realize too little or imagine too much? Its hard to say, but I don’t believe we exaggerate the pluck with which you all, in your different ways, are facing the circumstances. It is a blessing to have a mass of petty, but in a sense, urgent things to do, things, too, which occupy the surface of the mind pretty thoroughly. I am so anxious to leave everything arranged so as to give the minimum of trouble to everyone concerned if we decide not to come back. Luckily our old friends, the Haldars, are coming here, and will allow us to leave all our furniture and boxes here, and even the motor car. Herbert leaves here to-day for Darjeeeling. I remain till the 1st Oct. when I go to stay with Harry and Winsome, where Herbert will join me on Oct 6th. We hope our boat will leave on the 8th or 9th. We have had a cable from Mary Ow-Wachendorf saying that she will await us at the Nederlanden Hotel, Batavia, so evidently she is coming down from the Hills to meet us. That is just like her and her mother! Herbert has been much troubled by indigestion lately, and has been running a slight temperature most days. He looks forward to a cessation of the constant stream of work, so much of it made futile by the stupidity or political graft of the Ministers. Edward Groth has given me a whole bundle of introductions to old friends of his in Java. I doubt if we shall be able to use them all, but the one he is keenest about should prove interesting. It is to the retired Governor of Eastern Java, who now lives near the Hill station of Bandoeng, where we shall undoubtedly spend some of our time.

Harry and Winsome are coming to-morrow to spend a night here. It will be a pleasure to have them, and convenient to find out what of our things Winsome would like. Quite a lot of flower vases, books and other oddments I am leaving with her on the understanding that I may claim them back if we return, and that she may keep them if we do not.

We have had a regular feast of letters from Rosemary this week, for she missed one post (while having her hair permed) and a previous letter turned up to-day with no explaination on its envelope as to why it was delayed. The most exciting of all was the very long letter describing the whole journey from school to Winnipeg, which came by sea route, and took just over eight weeks. We found it extremely interesting, and feel so grateful to the many members of the family who, in one way or another, helped to get the two young things safely away. How convenient it is to have Stairs cousins scattered in so many Canadian towns. Herbert and Winsome are amazed at Rosemary’s enterprise and persistance in seeking out Denis Stairs in Montreal. To me it seems the sensible thing to do, but Herbert would prefer missing the sight of half a dozen cousins rather than make a telephone call in a strange town. Letters from home are turning up pretty regularly now. One came from Grace to-day, dated August 16th.

The papers have been full of columns and columns of stuff about Gandhi and the Congress doings. I have felt unable to read it. The whole attitude seems so unreal, and such political sharp practice, that it sickens one. It would be interesting to hear of the reactions of these gentlemen if they had a taste of Nazi rule.

As a slight change from my packing and list making, and correspondence with banks and shipping agents, I have had some Girl Guide work on hand. Our Bengali Girl Guide Trainer spent the three first days of this week here, and got through a lot of work, both training the Guides and their officers, and also visiting two other schools who have been enquiring about Guides. The result of all this was that the Head Mistress of the High English School (Yes. They are called H.E. School) invited teacher from the other two schools to attend the final rally of the Guides in her school, entertained them to tea afterwards, and they stayed till seven o’clock, for a sort of general training class, and seem full of enthusiasm.

Well, dear ones, I fear you will get an equally dull letter next week and after that I shall be, comparatively, a lady of leisure, for the week or ten days in Calcutta and hope to write better – Love, as always - Joan

(note in margin in Aunt’s writing ‘May Dora Len then Annette Richard Bous (The Laundry South Coast Leighton Buzzard) Mona Hilda’)


From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
Sept 21st 1940

My darling Annette,

It was lucky that you and Dicky were able to get home for the same week-end at the beginning of August, for you had not seen one another for some time, had you? I so often wonder whether you are getting constant Air Raids over Bletchley. Its nearly impossible for us to visulize what life in England is like now, in spite of most excellent talks by J.B. Priestly and others from the B.B.C-. Aunt’s last letter, written on August 16th and recently arrived, is the first one that gives some personal impression of the constant air-warfare that is raging. Its almost impossible not to be selfish and pray and hope that ones own beloved ones may escape. How thin this must all sound from one who is going off to holiday-make in the antipodes. I feel this strongly, but fail to see what I can do short of abandoning Dad, and trying to make my way to England. I cherish the secret hope that when Dad has recovered somewhat, that not only might he get some work to do to forward the War effort, (a hope which I fancy I told you of in an earlier letter) but that I might get something to do too. There are certain things which I am or could be good at. I think one of my lines is thinking out, arranging and carrying through a mass of petty detail, such, for instance as the Quarter Master’s job at a Girl Guide Camp, or the arrangements for a big party going out for an expedition in the mountains, or even an affair such as the packing up of this house, and making all arrangements for the disposal of our goods if we do not return. I say I hate the bother of it all, but I dont know that that is quite true. I believe there is a part of me which enjoys getting everything neatly done. I wish the effort were directed towards something more vital, I must say.

Romey has done us proud in the way of letters. Her description of the voyage is almost epic! What luck that she has this knack of making friends, and the sense to mix with interesting people. I am surprised and delighted that she proves herself able to write so fully and so well. It is a great blossoming-out. Already this trip and her situation as almost “in loco parentis” to John, has matured her, I believe. it will be interesting to hear what course she finally decides to take at the University. It seems strange that she should find at under seventeen that she has already done most of the work in biology and botony that would be on the syllabus of the 1st Year Science Course. It gives one some notion of the value of a Canadian University Degree compared with an English one.

Yesterday I had several hours of attempts at French conversation. M. Marsouttier invited us to lunch to-morrow, and I refused saying that Harry and Winsome were coming from Calcutta to collect their furniture before we went away. His reply was to turn up soon after twelve yesterday on a polite visit, to bid us farewell, if we were off at once, or to arrange another day for us to go to him, if we had time. We have got round it by saying that Dad is too busy this wee, and I am going next Sunday, after Dad has gone to Darjeeling – Our guest did not leave till almost 1.30, and I was just planning how to arrange some quick additions to our lunch so that I could invite him to stay and share it, when he said he must go. He mentioned that he would not be able to go to a concert in Serampore that evening, as he had not yet succeeded in buying a car, and could not get the taxi. I volunteered to pick him up and take him along, with the result that I was talking French on and off from 9 pm. till nearly 1 a-m. As the evening wore on the words came much more easily, and the verb tenses and persons did not prove so obstinate. M. Marsouttier’s position is now quite clear. Following the lead of M. Bonvin, the Governor of French India, he has declared all out for General de Gaulle. When the Barons were transferred and this man sent in their place, a rumour went round that he was a “Petain man”. I felt pretty sure from his talk on the first evening I met him, that this could not be so, but its nice to know it beyond a shadow of doubt. I wish I could speak French better, but thank goodness I speak even as much as I do, for there seem to be so many people who cannot speak at all. I do hope Romey will keep up her French. Best love Mother


From LJT to Annette

Chinsurah
Bengal
Sept 26th

My darling Annette

Yesterday post brought letters from you and from Aunt - Yours written on August 1st – by all sea-mail – Aunts written on Aug 9th and send by sea/air – but oddly enough exactly a week ago a letter came from her written on Aug 16th. My poor Annette – I do feel sorry for your distress and disappointment when the fact that you left your bag in a tube train caused such an unfortunate series of missed trains and got you home so late. That kind of thing gives one a sense of exasperation and frustration and is most exhausting. I still remember with a sense of irritation the occasion on which you and Romey were coming up from St Monica’s unescorted, by a train which the school said came through to Charing Cross – It did not – and I foolishly dashed off to London Bridge, instead of telephoning to the station authorities there – You probably remember how you had very sensibly come on to Charing Cross – and after a fruitless search at London Bridge, a kindly official phoned and got news that you were waiting for me at Charing Cross – I feel the irritation because I know I acted stupidly . This was a good letter of yours – much like a talk. Its a pity that comment and answer are parted by so many weeks – Curse Italy – as you very justly remark. I wonder if you were able to borrow any more acceptable Italian books from Christina. I suppose they occasionally write about something other than their illicit love – In my small knowledge of Italian opera, I judge that, in some form, that was their invariable theme – Luckily the music generally rises above – far above the often sordid theme. Its fun trying to visulize something of your life and surroundings and conditions of work – Mention of playing your Recorder in the Yew Maze, gives me the idea that your Department must be housed in some country mansion. The 4 pm till mid-night shift is not too bad, I should think but the mid-night till 8 a.m. must be a bit difficult to cope with – Do you see Pam and Betty fairly often, by the way? My love to them and their family, next time you come across them.

27th I stopped writing last evening, to listen to that rather engaging American Broadcaster, Warren Irvine, who does the Talks – “An American Looks at Britain” – or “at the War” – or something of that sort. He’s rather in the genre of J B Priestly and I like listening to what he has to say, partly, I suppose, because after 8 or 9 months, spent in Germany, since the beginning of the War, he has such a hearty dislike for the Nazis and all their methods – You talk of books and say that in the Library “here” (I suppose that is the office) there a lot of American books – If by any chance you can find “Out of Africa” by Isak Dickenson do read it. Its by a woman – Danish – who ran a farm in Kenya while her husband was away at the last War. I find it in all ways delightful. Louise Ranken who lent it to me, knows people who were friends of the author and who say she is a charming person and that her husband was a complete rotter. Subsequently she had to divorse him. His second wife drove a car out here from Denmark – caused a good deal of havoc amongst a number of easily deluded males – announced her intention of driving her car to Lhasa – but while her request for permission to carry out this plan where stuck in the official quagmires of Delhi, she and her car got stuck in the natural mud of Bengal and had to be lifted out by man power and carried and hauled to the nearest railway and return, rather ignominiously to Calcutta, where she stayed having a very good time at other people’s expense, till she thought it was time to go back to Europe. She never got there though, poor thing, for she was killed in a car crash in Persia – That marriage must have been a case of diamond cut diamond, I should think –

When the wireless says there have been raids over the Midlands, the same thought always comes whizzing into my mind – have they been over Bletchley – and how have they affected you –

I am writing this in the early morning, when I usually listen to the news and commentary – and “Britain Speaks” – but reception is so bad this morning, that I can only hear faint indefinite squeaks and rumbles. its a long time since we had bad reception conditions.

Best love
Mother


Family letter from LJT

Chinsurah
Bengal
Sept 28th 1940
Family Letter

My Dears,

This is the last letter for the time being from this house, and perhaps the last ever - - - for if we return to India we may not come back here.

By plan I should have had ample time to write to-day, but plans have gone West. Two visitors came in this morning, and Herbert, who has just left for Darjeeling, did not begin to sort out his own papers and the personal official papers which he wants to keep, till this afternoon. I therefore have been dancing attendance on him, instead of writing to you. Its fearfully hot and sticky, and after several long strenuous days of packing, followed by this rush to deal with Herbert’s affairs, I feel rather as if I had been put through a mangle. However this is more a gesture of affection than a letter in the proper sense of the word. What mind I have to spare from the happenings in Europe, has almost all been given to matters connected with packing, and with arrangements for our trip. The main part of the packing and sorting is now done I am glad to say. One side of the empty room we use as a box room, is now piled with boxes, all neatly numbered, and marked with an “E” in blue, to indicate that they are the ones that are to be sent to England, if we do not return to India. On the other side of the room are the things that are to be given away or sold, if we don’t come back. I have cast out a lot of stuff. Our last two moves have been by lorry from one house direct to another, so there has been no need to take very careful stock of our possessions, or economise in space when packing. Getting Herbert to throw anything away is like drawing blood from a stone. He likes to keep all agreable little boxes and bottles, small ends of ink or paint, and all kinds of other strange things. We must have lots of little bits and pieces that we have carried about for twenty years or more.

It was great fun having Harry and Winsome with us last Saturday and Sunday, and Winsome helped me greatly by taking charge of several articles of plate that I wanted to give away to be sold for War Charities. There is talk of a big sale coming on later in the Cold Weather, but nothing is yet fixed, so I did not know where to leave my contribution. We drove down to a place more than half way to Calcutta to a farewell tea on Sunday afternoon. The party was given by one of the big Zemindars of the District, who is an active man in public affairs, and a great believer in Herbert’s irrigation scheme. We have managed to avoid all other parties on the combined excuse that we do not know whether we are coming back or not, and that money should not be spent on parties, but given to the war funds. These farewell parties given by all sorts of different bodies such as “The Office Staff” “The Municipality” and so on are usually a fantastic nuisance when one is transferred, and we are lucky to be able to avoid them.

My mornings have been quite out of joint the last two days, for the reception from England on the radio has been so bad that I could not make out what was been said. Its a long time since we had anything but excellent reception. The afternoon and evening have been good.

I am sorry to say good-bye to this house and garden in a way, but I am so keen to get Herbert away, that I cant pay much attention to regrets. In the same way I feel that the time has come when it will be a good thing for us to leave India if its possible, and so I rather hope that we may not return. Its rather a good thing to get away when everyone thinks one is coming back, because it avoids the rather tiresome dwelling on saying good-bye.

Dont think because I dont write of the war, that I dont think of it. I seldom stop thinking of it for many minutes, but its hard to know what to write, except our constant admiration for the way the inhabitants of Great Britain are behaving. God bless you all!

Best love,
LJT

From LJT to Romey

Sept 28th, 1940 Chinsurah

My darling Romey,

It is difficult to write letters when one is in the last stages of a big packing like this. It is true that I am well on with everything, but during the last two days such a lot of time is taken up with people coming in to say good-bye, and by all the servants and other odd people like the electrician, the carpenter, and so on, wanting to have “Chits” or letters of recommendation written. Arranging things with such care so that what we need could be sent to England without our returning here, has made me feel that we are not coming back to India. I wonder whether it will be so. I rather hope it, for I am worried about Dad’s health if health if he tries to come back to work in this climate. I’ve enjoyed my years in India, but I feel now a good time has come to say good-bye, and to look forward to a home in England.
Puchi is not depressed by packing, like some dogs are. Rather the reverse! He seems to think that boxes and straw are exciting, and must all be investigated. He is a most intelligent little thing, and had become much more obedient lately. He mostly comes when he is called now, and we don’t have much trouble with the barking vice. I have never known a dog apparently able to make his hair fluff up when he pricks his ears, or lie flat when he smoothes his ears down to express an apology. His eyes and face are most expressive, and one can read the sentiments he is trying to convey, perfectly well. I am much fonder of him than I was, and shall be sorry to part from him.
Dad went off yesterday, and it was a rush to sort his papers and odd things that the bearer and I had not been able to deal with on our own. He is a terror for leaving everything of that sort till the last possible minute. It’s true that he has been desperately busy getting things finished up, and that he has been too tired to tackle anything after dinner, which has really been his only free time, but I can’t help remembering that he tends to put off sorting and packing till the 11th hour, even when he is not working.
In a few minutes I have to go and change into suitable garments in which to lunch with the Administrateur of Chandernagore. Somehow I don’t feel that my bad French is going to be at its best today. My mind is so full of all manner of things I have to remember.
Last week I did put a message to Cousin Susie at the edge of your letter. It was n the question of money. Perhaps I had better give it now a bit more clearly. We have definite permission from the Reserve Bank of India to send the five hundred dollars a year to Cousin Susie in quarterly installments, the first of which will be sent to the Bank of Canada Winnipeg to be paid into her account, by air-mail early in October, so the money should be there before the end of the month. We have also got a license to use the Canadian money from the Eastern Trust as we wish, so I think she can trust to that being alright too. When you know what your fees at the University will be, I daresay you and Cousin Susie will be able to make some sort of a budget about the money. If it is not enough we might get permission to send a little more, but it would be a bit of a business, I expect. I fear I have treated Susie badly in the way of letters lately. I will try to make up for it on the boat. Meantime, do give my love to her and to Helen and John.

With heaps of love to yourself,
From Mother