My traveling fox and his stories…
The old tale of Bartholomew Jones, who happened upon the stupendous and mysterious hat of Arnold Bean, in the days when its dear owner was lost.
While the legend of Arnold Bean’s stupendous hat has many beginnings, there is one so incredibly unnecessary it is simply necessary.
Yet again, but three days from your departure I hear of you. Had I ever been so daft not to see that sparkle of mischief in your eyes, not to suspect my furry “pet” — to be so foolish a word — of so famed a respect. Thankfully, I learned well to admire the surprising talent and cleverness you draw about. So, not a dull fish in its dull bowl, but a good company of an odd little fox.
I suppose our friendship should be so, as I myself am odd as you. And, I admit, I have given in and put flowers in my tea! You’ve rubbed off, my friend. Even this moment, if you’d believe it, I’ve mixed a few dandelions with my usual lapsang.
Still awaiting your teaching me Italian. Your continual holiday leaving makes this endeavour so very troublesome. I am glad we began, lest it turned to the nonsuccess of French, which I know your fondness of. (Please don’t reply with a letter for translation — you know that does little good.) Either way, I suspect we will be about it shortly. I can smell it in the air, Sire. Perhaps your next return.
You will be pleased to find your package of brooches and custom ties has arrived. It came about shortly following my letting you off at the station. Also, I should mention, there was a small tear in your knit coat, for which I did my best to mend. I will send a letter to Conall for an appraisal of replacement, and perhaps he may add a few special adjustments to better fit your usual ‘active’ lifestyle.
I expect, good sir, to hear of your recent traverses, upon first letterbox inspection. Your desk’s archive is ever so dusty.
Awaiting your holiday’s return.