[LAUGH]
Diary of John Haye, Secretary to the Noat Art Society, and in J. W. P.’s House at the Public School of Noat.
6 July (about).
IT has only just struck me that a kind of informal diary would be rather fun. No driving as to putting down something every day, just a sort of pipe to draw off the swamp water. It has rained all the past week. We went to Henley yesterday and it was wretched: B. G. going off to Phyllis Court and leaving me with Jonson, an insufferable bore who means very well and consequently makes things much worse. Seymour went with Dore who was dressed in what would be bad form at Monte, and at Henley . . . Had a row with Seymour and refused to be seen with Dore.
Wonderful T. Carlyle’s letters are, and his wife’s too. One can always tell them at a glance. She is the best letter writer there has ever been, I am told by a modern authority. I should think T. C. runs this pretty fine, his explosive style going well into letters.
9 July.
Two people in my absence just had a water fight in my room, which enraged me.
The usual question asked, “Why not in anyone else’s room?” and of course no answer: however, felt better after calling Brimston an animated cabbage. His retort was, “Oh, cutting!” . . .
Seymour, B. G. and I were seriously discussing the production of a revue here next term, as they do at the universities, but as Seymour said, the difficulties were insuperable, too many old men to surmount.
19 July.