Dear Dorothy,I have just received your letter from Prawle. It is now so long since I received a letter from you that I am puzzled to know the why and wherefore of it. You say you wrote me about a month ago! Not a line, dear, has reached me, but of course, I knew from Mr Bush that you were going away to Devonshire with the Buxton Girl Guides and Ivor told me last Wednesday that you had already left on the Monday.There must be at least two letters of yours floating about in space somewhere, and I suppose they will turn up in the sweet bye and bye.I met Ivor at St Pancras last Wednesday and we spent 2½ hours together. He looked in the pink of condition. We had ices and fruit cake at Lyon’s Corner House in Leicester Square and then we walked quietly along to Victoria Station, only straying a bit on the way for another ice. It was such a very hot day that Ivor couldn’t look a cup of tea in the face. It really was hot last Wednesday afternoon. I have had a postcard from him since.I am glad to hear you are having a jolly time in camp and that you know now how to swim in the approved manner. There is hardly any pleasure greater than a dip in the briny.I have not bathed much in English waters, most of my swimming was done as a young man in semi-tropical waters where it was so hot that you had to bathe very early in the morning, or some where near midnight under a full moon, and one or two fellows have had a shark between them and the shore before now; a pretty narrow squeak. Diving is the big fun, however.If you can manage to drop me another letter before you leave Prawle it will be very welcome, but please do not write to me in pencil. It gets blurred, and my eyes are not what they used to be, even with glasses.I have been staying for a day or two some little distance out, with an old gentleman, and we put in most of the time playing chess. I can go there as often as I like, but when it comes to four in the morning and still playing chess it is too much. He is simply a glutton for the game, and would play on for 24 hours if he had his way.Don’t forget a line or two. I send you a P.O. for 2/-.Love Dad.

My Dear Dorothy,
I was leaving the house last evening with a letter to Ivor in my hand to throw in the nearest Post Box, when your welcome letter was brought up to me from below. I read it in the “Tube”.
Many thanks for wishes kind as to my health. I am not worrying, but I find I am susceptible to any sudden chill in the atmosphere and would feel a trifle anxious if a severe spell of really cold weather were to surprise us this winter.
My work at the week-end keeps me standing about in the cold for hours and hours, but if the spell of cold comes along I shall take it as easy as I can.
I am surrounded by good friends who would pack me into “Lyons” or the “Express” for an hour or two for a rest from the cold, and would carry on for me rather than see me run too big a risk. For all of which I thank God.

“Patricia” – I think you might reply as soon as you please. I know Annie’s daughter is sending you a Christmas card, her address is –
Mrs Annie France, 1 Rockliffe Street, Graham Street, Islington N.4.

Queen’s Hall – That leaves me a bit anxious as to Dorothy, but not as to Ivor. You must manage to come. I want to see you badly. There are many little things to discuss that can’t be put on paper. You will spoil my Christmas if I don’t see you ‘twixt now and then. I shall not worry: I feel I shall see you at Queen’s Hall.

Paints – I shall bring them along, and you and Ivor can settle to share or do so as you wish, mutually.

Chess – I have heard of that little book you mention. You must of course buy or borrow Board and Men so that you can put up the positions as the book proceeds. I would like you to play a decent game of Chess. It wants study from books as well as actual play; preferably with opponents stronger than yourself.
I had a game with Ivor when he was in London, at Lyons’ in The Strand, and he is coming along decidedly. He wants book knowledge, too. I was particularly pleased with his “Chess Manner”. His moves were decisive, right or wrong, and he was silent the whole of the game. I did all the talking.

Amateur Theatricals – I was pleased at what you say re “Wakefield’s” birthday acting. If Ivor has some real talent in this direction it will procure him much pleasure and many interesting friends. It is indulged in far more than when I was young and good Amateurs are eagerly sought after.
You don’t seem to have gone in for this. Personally, I think that you too have a flair in that direction; judging from your delight when a kid in imitating (for my delectation) your teachers and others on many quiet evenings. And, I assure you, I am never amused at fifth-rate stuff in that line. It is a pleasant hobby and gives pleasure to others.

Girl Guides – From a side remark of Ivor’s, I learn that you still keep up this fine hobby. You might tell me, when you think of it, how you are progressing.

Robinson Crusoe — I am glad you so enjoy it. There are so many abridged (shortened) editions for young folk. No doubt you read one of these previously. To love “Robinson Crusoe” is to shew good literary taste.

Christmas Cards – I don’t think it would hurt you to send a penny Xmas card to Mrs Hill. Also one to Annie (no letter). I may send you on some nice, cheap cards about Xmas time. Where I work in Chapel Street, we have Woolworth’s dead in front of us, so it is quite easy for me to choose a few stray ones for you and for Ivor. I am immodest enough to believe that you can trust my taste in that direction. With the flap open, Christmas cards carry a halfpenny stamp.

The Weather – To-day at work it blew and it blew and affected sales unkindly. We are hoping and praying for a fine spell of weather between now and Christmas. About next week-end the Christmas shopping spirit ought to manifest itself in its budding stages. A good Christmas puts me, temporarily at least, on my feet and I start the New Year clear of all debt and with a new pair of shoes.

It is getting late. I am sitting in front of a lovely fire and now that I have finished this epistle will have a cup of tea, a cig, a quiet think and “so to bed”; to get ready for tomorrow’s long day.

Love Dad.

Dear Dorothy,

The workmen are in my room and since mid day I am a homeless wanderer killing time.

Your luck seldom deserts you: some four hours after you left, four square feet of ceiling fell to the floor and awakened me with a nasty start.

In the morning, what a mess! I left it all till Mrs K got home from her duties at the G.P.O.

She tackled the job at once, ran round to the landlord, and the two workmen were soon on the spot.

They have finished the roof and are now in my room. Everything is dust! Half the furniture is in Mrs K’s bedroom.

I think I can get back home at about 5pm.

I am not sorry it happened. I shall now feel more comfortable.

I have just been casting my vote, and you know who gets it! There will be some excitement tonight as the results trickle in. The pubs are open till midnight – some crowds I think!

I hope you got home safe and sound.

Half a mind to go and have a game of chess at the Gambit. Good idea, what? (Just came into my head.)

Mrs K has promised to put things ship-shape this evening.

If I get home to a tidy room, good! Love Dad.

Dear Dorothy,

Many thanks for your very interesting letter and birthday present. I had to go out early this morning and wore the socks: they fit me like a glove and are a great improvement on the last pair which were rather generous about the ankle and calf,  and which have shrunk in the washing and are now near the mark.I am not surprised you took your badge with the second effort; they are fine.I got home ten days ago and feel fine, but my “old appletart” (slang for heart) won’t yet stand any hurry and scurry. He goes pit-a-pat and tells me to slow down a bit.

At Sidcup I lived in the sun and am still brown and sunburnt. What lovely walks there are in that neighbourhood, and I look forward to the day when you and Ivor and myself will be able to do two or three days hiking in that part of Kent. I could also get permission to shew you over Queen Mary’s Hospital and have tea in the canteen, or at Foot’s Cray, just near, where there is a dinky little café.

They now cater for  the gentle hiker everywhere at reasonable prices and the movement is spreading all over the  country.The silly people who rush around in motors don’t see the inner beauties of the countryside. To pad it afoot is glorious on the other hand, perhaps there are some fine places you could shew me in Hertfordshire! We’ll see, we’ll see; if providence wills it in His own good time.

Business is very bad and I am having an uphill fight. My poor pupils have dwindled, four in one family gone.I spent a happy afternoon and long evening with that family Tuesday last – my first feed of strawberries and cream.

My Chelsea pupil has written me three or four nice letters during my illness, Spanish lessons are only postponed with her as her business in the fruit trade at Covent Garden is at its height and she is being overworked. I have a couple of boys in The Bank of England on their holidays abroad and I don’t think they will restart till the winter months.

I like teaching, I make friends where I go and they make me at home and entertain me. I have been very lucky with my pupils and these things count with a lonely old man.I ought not to say I am lonely, you might misunderstand.

Chess takes me at any leisure moment among lots of people I have known more or less for fifteen years, and then of course the music business over a long period puts me into direct touch for hours a week with very nice acquaintances and customers; many of them very friendly. I have much to be thankful for in a quiet way.

I am so pleased that you are happy and contented with Mr and Mrs Bush. I would hate you to be in a job outside on your own just yet, and even for a few years you would find yourself very lonely, trust me. Ivor too, would be safer and happier with a job on the N.C.H&O.* The money doesn’t matter for the next four years – a home is everything – the kindly paternal touch! Besides, see the sport he gets!

I hope by the way, he sticks to his books a little bit.Remember me to ivor, and write soon.

With love, Dad                          *National Children’s Home & Orphanage

Dear Dorothy,I met Ivor at Bow Church on Thursday (and got the BOOK — I am captured) and we spent a happy time together till 9.30pm when I saw him well on the way to King’s Cross, and then strolled home myself.He shewed me your letter (when I asked to see it). It was a pretty stiff one, dear, and I am pleased to think I had the sense to laugh at it and comfort him a bit that way as he really was stiff and formal with me when we first met. Poor boy, he didn’t know how I was going to receive him. I sensed that everything through with a father’s love and got him at last a bit easy and natural and then we adjourned to Lyon’s and had a bit of lunch and a game of chess and a chat.Then, by the time the chess and the talk was over, we were peckish again (for lunch was very modest), and so we had another lunch to back it up.It didn’t come to much and we shared it as neither of us was very flush. then we had a stroll in the Strand, the Embankment and the Gardens and so on and some more talk and I think it broke the ice that was left and we were quite easy with each other.Then it was tea-time and so Lyon’s again and another jolly quiet hour went.Now for the Book! Thank you, indeed. It has made a lot of difference in my outlook on life and I am undergoing the preliminary training to test myself and give myself up to Jesus Christ. I have always been religious, even when a great, great sinner; but I never till now had the right guidance that “For Sinners Only” has given me.Of course, I have not finished the book, as I have had my week-end work to do and strangely enough it has been the best week-end I have had for ever so long.Now one thing. We must win Ivor, that is your job to start with and you must do it with every loving kindness.He is a boy who I now see can’t be driven, but kindness — love — of the right gentle sort would lure him into the fold in time. There is no hurry, do it bit by bit without his knowing it and take a year or any time but get him.I wish now we had put our arms around him and gently  chided him instead of scolding him — he is very sensitive and you know that now you and I must not find fault with anyone much less with Ivor.Of course, I didn’t know when I met him what the Book had to teach me; if I had the day spent  with him would have had some “guidance” and I would have tackled him differently from the very start, for he sensed of course that I was a bit annoyed when we met and there was my letter to you and your letter to him which made the poor boy unhappy.On Sundays the bar closes at 7pm sharp for hot water to make tea and as it is nearing that hour and I don’t want to miss my supper (or have it without the cup that cheers) I must now close, but I feel full of things I would like to say to you. Tell me early how you stand with regard to Christ. I do feel you have also made up your mind.

Love, write very soon Dad. 

Dear Dorothy,Yours of  Saturday all in order; glad you enjoyed the Club Social.I am enclosing Ivor’s recent letter: I have replied to it. Also a programme of the Luton “Mayfield” concert.Fine if you can attend the Mayfield Concert and Entertainment on Christmas Day.You will notice by Ivor’s letter that this is one that he “pulled off” for me, so don’t shew it at Harpenden.You will get an official programme if you attend and I would like this enclosed copy to be kept for me and returned by post or when you see me next.Those buttons that you wanted me to match for you . . . I went to several of the shops where my friends told me I might get them and drew a blank. One little girl assistant however, knew of a loose lot of buttons stowed away somewhere and found me three. I paid a penny for them.I am a bit of a duffer where commissions of that nature (feminine trifles) are concerned.You would like to know about the week-end! The rain was very wet. Friday soaked me and the music — no business.Saturday : didn’t venture to put up a copy till 4pm, soaked very soon and the music, but fortunately had about 11/2 hours in the busy time and took a fair amount (rent and expenses). It got very bad at 7pm, so I packed up and got home.This (Sunday) morning — Fine, and took a fair amount; so I have squeezed through on the right side. The business was there on Friday and Saturday if it were not for the terrible wet weather which naturally kept customers away.I do hope that it will be fine up to Xmas, so that I can earn some extra money.I regret to tell you that this trying weather has given me a pretty bad cold. I felt it coming on ten days ago, but kept my eye on it. Yesterday I had a dose of ammoniated tincture of quinine. I felt, suddenly, in the market that I wanted it. I think that I shall repeat the dose tomorrow (Monday).Don’t worry, I am going along comfortably.You and Ivor also get colds too often. I told Ivor in my letter (begged of him) never to neglect even the slightest cold. I remember speaking to you severally on the same topic. Do bear it in mind, dear.Annie has asked me for your address. Wants to send you a Xmas card — Please send her a nice one and kindly send one to my friend the baby here –Miss Eugenie Stretton, 18 Stonefield Street, N.1 wishing everyone a Merry Xmas.I am always pleased when Xmas is over: It takes it out of me (the next nine days)One pleasant line in yours of Saturday was the gratifying announcement that your people are going away over Xmas. I was telling Ivor in my letter that you would probably have visitors over the festive season and that your work would be doubled. Glad I was wrong.I suppose Ivor is in, or on his way to, London at this moment for the Queen’s Hall Concert.It is a pleasant day for him and I hope they all have a successful show.I think he does somersaults and other gymnastic stunts; I don’t know whether he is singing or acting.My cold is troublesome today. As soon as I get out I shall have to have my “tincture”.I have had a good week-end rest.I enclose “Mary P”. I like this concluding article; there is common-sense in it.I must be getting along, love Dad.    

Dear Dorothy,

I have just received your letter from Prawle. It is now so long since I received a letter from you that I am puzzled to know the why and wherefore of it. You say you wrote me about a month ago! Not a line, dear, has reached me, but of course, I knew from Mr Bush that you were going away to Devonshire with the Buxton Girl Guides and Ivor told me last Wednesday that you had already left on the Monday.

There must be at least two letters of yours floating about in space somewhere, and I suppose they will turn up in the sweet bye and bye.

I met Ivor at St Pancras last Wednesday and we spent 2½ hours together. He looked in the pink of condition. We had ices and fruit cake at Lyon’s Corner House in Leicester Square and then we walked quietly along to Victoria Station, only straying a bit on the way for another ice. It was such a very hot day that Ivor couldn’t look a cup of tea in the face. It really was hot last Wednesday afternoon. I have had a postcard from him since.

I am glad to hear you are having a jolly time in camp and that you know now how to swim in the approved manner. There is hardly any pleasure greater than a dip in the briny.

I have not bathed much in English waters, most of my swimming was done as a young man in semi-tropical waters where it was so hot that you had to bathe very early in the morning, or some where near midnight under a full moon, and have one or two fellows and one or two fellows have had a shark between them and the shore before now; a pretty narrow squeak. Diving is the big fun, however.

If you can manage to drop me another letter before you leave Prawle it will be very welcome, but please do not write to me in pencil. It gets blurred, and my eyes are not what they used to be, even with glasses.

I have been staying for a day or two some little distance out, with an old gentleman, and we put in most of the time playing chess. I can go there as often as I like, but when it comes to four in the morning and still playing chess it is too much. He is simply a glutton for the game, and would play on for 24 hours if he had his way.

Don’t forget a line or two. I send you a P.O. for 2/-.

Love Dad.