Raphael Bunny.
The Luck of the Law.
Railway Carriage Bungalow,
Shoreham, Sussex.
Sir,—It is precisely thirty years since I was called to the Bar, and several of my contemporaries have already been elevated to the Bench, while Sir John Simon, who is considerably my junior, is in the receipt of a salary probably double that drawn by an ordinary Judge. My earnings for the last ten years have exempted me from income-tax, but this is but a poor consolation when I consider that were it not for the caprice of fortune I should probably be returning £400 or £500 a year to the Exchequer in super-tax. But not only have I been badly treated in regard to mental equipment; I have been further handicapped by hereditary conscientious objection to pay any bills. An annuity of £500 a year, or only one-tenth of the salary of a Judge, is the minimum that my self-respect will allow me to accept in payment of the State's long-standing debt to
Yours faithfully,
William Weir.
The Cruelty of Competition.
Sir,—I confidently appeal for your support in the application for a grant which I am forwarding to the Prime Minister. My son, aged 14, has failed to win an entrance scholarship at Winchester and Charterhouse, not from any fault of his own, but simply owing to the unfair competition of other candidates more liberally endowed with brains. At a modest estimate I calculate that the extra drain on my resources for the next eight years in consequence of this undeserved hardship will amount to at least £600, which I can ill afford owing to unfortunate speculations in Patagonian ruby mines—another example of that bad luck which, in the noble words of the Chancellor Of the Exchequer, it is the privilege of the prosperous to remedy.
I am, Sir, yours expectantly,