Collected Letters Volume One: Family Letters 1905–1931

Could you please send me some plain socks, black, which are ‘de rigeur’ here. My size is rather uncertain, but get them almost as big as your own, for I have a large foot. I have not heard from W. yet. Hoping you are not ‘thinking long’, I am,

your loving

son Jack

TO HIS FATHER (LP IV: 77):

Malvern.

28/9/13.

My dear Papy,

I hope you don’t object to the use of red ink, which is unavoidable, as our study has no black. Thanks very much for the money, note paper and socks. As you advise, I am being careful not to be rooked, and have already refused countless offers of utterly worthless merchandise. I have made the acquaintance of W’s friend Captain Tassell, who is quite an interesting study.

(#ulink_81ad61e0-3118-55bd-a2b9-b8895e591550)

Talking about W., I have heard from him since I came back. He seems to be settling down to the routine a la maison Gastons.

The work here is very heavy going, and it is rather hard to find time for it in the breathless life we lead here. So far that ‘breathlessness’ is the worst feature of the place. You never get a ‘wink of peace’. It is a perpetual rush, at high pressure, with short intervals spent in waiting for another bell. Roll is called several times each day, which of course helps to crowd up the time. However, I suppose this sense of being eternally hustled will wear off as things settle down. On the whole, it is very pleasant so far, and, which is a help, I like Smugie.

There is another thing that is worrying me rather. That is the fact that I miss Lea Shakespeare hours for drawing. Both of these subjects I should like to continue, but one must be dropped. What do you advise me to do? If we decide to give up the drawing, I suppose you can arrange that with the authorities.

I get on very well with the people in my own study, which is a great comfort. How is every thing at Leeborough?

your loving

son Jack

TO HIS BROTHER (LP IV: 78-9):

[Malvern 15?

October 1913]

My dear W.,

I was very glad to hear from you and acknowledge my remisness in writing, but honestly I am being worked to death by Smugy–with whom however I get on very well–not a moment of peace.

True, no 24 is rather near the pres. room, but both Hardman and I have extraordinary luck about fagging. One thing is that we are in the same study as that fat beast Lodge, whom everyone hates, so that if a pre. comes in he is sure to fag Lodge before us. I have only had to clean boots twice so far.

I have, among other things, written an article to appear in the ‘Malvernian’ under the name Hichens–whom I like best of the pres.

(#ulink_7a8a92b0-e1ea-5201-b021-0f412c2ad0f7) I don’t see all the horrors which you heaped on Browning.

(#ulink_3147df6a-ca7e-52ff-95fb-5a5f751214f2) He’s always very decent to me. Bourne gets very much mobbed as a pre.

(#ulink_d3b7da48-e162-5827-abc8-4dbf06b2c473) I am in Walter Lowe’s math set.

(#ulink_d24eec64-6fd8-5d02-82c1-14244276d624) Were you ever there?

Two very exciting things have happened. A drawing of mine, which we had to do for Smugy as one of the questions in W.E., was pinned up on the Upper V door for a week, and the James came down and said it was spirited. Also an English poem of mine in imitation of Horace was ‘sent up for good’ to Jimmy.

(#ulink_22a3d346-131e-50b3-8e45-162cdc691875) Consequently I have to go down to South Lodge and copy the poem into his great book tomorrow.

Isn’t the Fish a glorious man?

(#ulink_94856ea1-def6-528e-b9c2-286913b4d3b5) Smugy keeps on asking about you. As he is so interested in O.M’s., you ought to write to him if you have time. He is a decent old Kod,

(#ulink_bab6f75b-2738-535d-abd0-069aa60a39b6) isn’t he? Recruit drill is at present the chief joy of my life. I got a Coll. pres. for skipping clubs the other day. Jervis I rather like,

(#ulink_31adaab2-dc86-5204-a6d4-2452c107864f) but Bull II hasn’t come back yet.

(#ulink_d19b1563-5e7a-5808-a44e-cbb60f9932d0) It is a good business that I have got into a study with a decent lad. I like Hardman II very much.

(#ulink_802410c6-816d-5767-9a57-ff7f7b55b16d)

By the way, you don’t enclose the Col. Rena May [list] whatever you may think you do. How goes the History? You must manage to come down to the House Supper. Everyone would be awfully bucked to see you. I shall write and tell P. that I am nervous about going home alone if you like. This is being written in the breathless interval between Supper and Prayers, so I must chuck it now.

your loving

brother Jack

TO HIS FATHER (LP IV: 87-8):

[Malvern]

Postmark: 19 October 1913

My dear P.,

I hope you did not think that I was incurring reckless expense when I wrote to you for the money. The way you are rooked at Malvern by subscriptions, loans, and the fines which are shabbily arranged, is perfectly appalling. Thanks very much indeed for the five shillings.

The poem after Horace was, I am glad to tell you, somewhat in the nature of a success. It was top of the form and was sent up to the James. ‘Being sent up for good’ is a privilege enjoyed only by our form and the Upper Sixth and is rather a ceremony. I had to go down to Smugy’s house and copy the poem into a vast old volume of his, containing the works and signatures of all those who have been ‘sent up for good’ since 1895. I was of course greatly interested to read the other poems and things in the book: some of them are really very good. I enclose the poem which it may interest you to see. Smugy’s house is a queer little nook of the world, exactly typical of its owner.

I am inclined to agree with you that it will be a pity to lose Mr. Peacocke. He was neither a great preacher nor reader, but he was an educated gentleman, which is something to say in these times.

(#ulink_2be31a0d-3db0-5774-b76c-14918afadb32)

I hope this business of Aunt Minnie

(#ulink_58698263-a1de-5f1f-aaec-e2a1db50d016) will turn out all right. Coming on top of the trouble about Norman it is very hard lines, and I should imagine that the Moorgate household is one of the worst fitted to receive trouble, as there is always, even when things are at their brightest, a certain gloom there.

It certainly is a grievous pity that Shakespeare filled Romeo and Juliet

(#ulink_a62d6d6f-1c3d-5b41-a05c-17910f73e891) with those appalling rhymes. But the worst thing in the play is old Capulet’s preposterous speech to the guests. Still, it is a very fine tragedy. So is the Greek play that we are doing. It is quite unlike all that stiff bombast which we are accustomed to associate with Greek tragedy. There is life and character in it.

your loving