She gets in what she can, of course, and I do the rest. Doing the rest, by the way, takes up a great deal of my time. But I generally have an hour free in the evenings.
Your brave DODO.
Puddleford.
DEAR MOIRA,—I am glad to say Emma has gone and I am putting my name down at a registry-office in the usual way. It's too much of a strain having "conference" girls in the home.
Who was it said that if we are to allow the working classes to get the upper hand it was nothing short of encouraging Bolshevism in the home? Anyhow, I think he—or perhaps it was she—must be right.
I must close rather hastily. I have just heard a terrific crash in the kitchen; I'm afraid Harry has dropped something on his foot again.
Your long-suffering DODO.
"Mr. ——, like a fatherly hen, hovered over all, satisfying himself that nothing had been omitted that could detract from their comfort."—Egyptian Mail.
We cannot imagine any hen, however unsexed, behaving like that.