is funny that you can't write about yourself without going into the matter of what you think or do not think about religion. . . .
I forgot to tell you, he writes, 24. 4. 21, that I received y'day, from Jack Tennant, from a house with an improbable name, in a Scotch county which I had never heard of (Morayshire), a salmon—the whole bird—weighing 7-1/2 lbs. and measuring somewhere about 7-1/2 feet. I distributed 3 lbs. to my doctor and 3 lbs. to the heir presumptive to the Cave-Brown-Cave baronetcy (with apologies for the radical source of the gift). My wiff and I ate 3 oz. of it to our dinner; and the remainder was consumed by the manageress, the bookkeeper and housekeeper of the Royal Hotel. . . .
Ten days later his preparations were complete.
Unless I ring you up at 11, on Friday, he
writes, 3. 5. 21, I will be with you at 11, as suggested
in your letter—the morning is still my
best time—and lunch at the club.
