Chapter X: X X X These are from Fred

318, BANCROFT ROAD,

WOLVERHAMPTON

October 30, 1912.

DEAR JOE:

Thank you so much for the tie--it is pretty and I do wear ties sometimes, so I sha'n't let the boys have it.

You must think me rather ungrateful not writing before, but I have been out the last two evenings and have had no time for letters. Yesterday Mother and I went to Birmingham as I had my half-term holiday.

I hope you managed to get some tea after writing to me, otherwise I shall feel so grieved to think I was the cause of your starvation. By the way, I read your latest poem and I don't like it--not that that will trouble you much I'm sure. The idea isn't at all bad, but that's all I like about it.

I haven't a bit of news, and I have just found out it is too late to catch the post to-night, so you will have to wait a little longer for this precious letter--it will be precious, won't it?

Charlie has just come home from his class, so I must bring his food for him. Daddy's lumbago is better, I'm glad to say.

Good-night, and with many thanks

I remain

Yours,

KATHLEEN.

Excuse this scrawl, but the pen's groggy.

A moment of silence followed the reading of the letter.

“Joe's a lucky boy,” said Whitney. “She's a darling.”

“The letter doesn't tell us much,” said Forbes, as he handed it round for examination; “but more than you might think. Before writing my chapter I summarized the data. Here they are:

“1. _Joe_. He's a member of the 'varsity who writes poetry. Either it's published in some magazine or he sends it privately to her. The blighter has sent Kathleen a tie of some kind--probably a scarf with his college or club colours. He's got as far as the plaintive stage: he tells her that he is going without his tea just to write to her. (Probably half a dozen crumpets and four cups of tea were simmering inside of him as he wrote). So much for Joe. I'll wager he's a Rhodes Scholar!

“2. _Kathleen_. I put her at seventeen, and (as Whitney says) she's a darling. She's at school still. She's adorably sane. She doesn't care for Joe's yowling poetry (probably he writes Verlaine kind of stuff, or free verse, or some blither of that sort). She has younger brothers ['the boys') and she helps her mother run the house. I think she likes Joe better than she cares to admit--see the touch of coquettishness where she says 'It _will_ be precious, won't it?' And how adorably she teases him in those four crosses marked 'These are from Fred.' Gad, I'm jealous of Joe already!

“3. _Fred_. I think he's the older brother; probably recently left the 'varsity; a friend of Joe's, perhaps.

“4. _Charlie_ is one of the younger brothers. He goes to some kind of night school or gymnasium. Probably an ugly little beggar. Why doesn't he get his food for himself?

“5. _The Mother_. Don't know anything about her except that she went to Birmingham with Kathleen.

“6. _The Father_. Has lumbago.”

“One thing you don't mention,” said Graham. “It's an easy run from here to Wolverhampton on a motor bike!”

“Rather a sell if Joe should turn out a boxing blue, and mash us all into pulp for bagging his letter!” said Whitney. There was a general laugh at this. Whitney was over six feet, rowed number 5 in the Balliol boat, and was nicknamed the Iron Duke for his muscular strength.

“Go on with your chapter, Priapus,” said the Goblin.