I used to look in every other day to see how the struggle went. At first Box and Co. were confident, remarking on my wisdom in placing myself (and my pass-book) in such competent hands as theirs. But as the correspondence went on their enthusiasm wore off; Mr. Box gave vent to observations reflecting ill on the Army system of pay, on the Army itself, even on that part of it which was me. Had it not been that the pride of Box and Co. was involved, I believe they would have gone to London in a body, there to form a lifelong friendship with Cox and Co., out of pure fellow-feeling. But I have hinted that Box and Co. were a cold inhuman institution, whose business in life it was to do people down, or go down itself. And so Cox and Co. had to be for it. Eventually, in the late winter of 1919, Box and Co. extracted from Cox and Co. the admission that a five had been mistaken for a three, and I had been done out of twopence, an affair all the more gross in that it had happened as long ago as the early spring of 1915, and never a word of remorse meanwhile! A conclusion by which neither Box nor Cox was really satisfied, but which, for me, was enough. We English may only win one battle in a war, but that battle is the last.
Possibly, my dear Charles, you have a soft spot in your heart for this Cox and Co., never failing in courtesy and attention and ever heaped with abuse? So, to be frank, have I. Let us turn round and blackguard the other fellow. The sequel is incredible.
I next handed my Box and Co. pass-book to Cox and Co., giving them a brief and touching résumé of my sad story of wrong and oppression, and bidding them do their damnedest in their turn. They wrote to Box and Co.: "Our customer, your customer, we may say the customer, Second-Lieutenant, Brevet-Lieutenant, Temporary Captain, Acting Major, Local Colonel, Aspiring General (entered in your books as plain Mister) Henry Neplusultra, informs us that, though he has banked with you since the first sovereign he earned at his baptism, he has been so frowned at and scorned as to have been rendered morally unable to handle his current balance. He instructs us...."
But why relate the story in all its grim horror? Enough to say that so successfully did Cox and Co. pursue their instructions that they discovered a credit balance in my favour of 14s. 3d.; so politely and firmly did they conduct the correspondence that eventually Box and Co. burst into tears, admitted the claim and, upon my calling the other day personally to receive satisfaction, handed me the 14s. 3d. with a deferential bow. If you doubt the truth of this statement you have only to come round to my place, where you can see for yourself the threepence, which is still in my possession.
Yours ever,
Henry.
Fusser. "I should like to know just how much this train is overdue."
Cynic. "A watch ain't no good—what you want is a halmanack."