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The Letters of Katherine Mansfield: Volume I

S.S. Casetta (Homeward bound) — Friday night — October 1919 —

S.S. Casetta (Homeward bound)
Friday night
October 1919

To Richard Murry

I am at present being stared at by (1) very old winged beetle who is evidently looking to see if this is his club or not and whether there is an octogenarian or two to have a chat with; (2) three white moths with their little moth's noses pressed as flat as flat can be; (3) an Unknown, with six legs and the appearance of a diminutive lobster;

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(4) one very large grey moth, apparently in a shawl who appears by her anxiety to be endeavouring to see if there really is a large barrel of butter hidden behind the counter for regular customers only or not. All these are on the outside of my windy pane, drawn to the light because I have not closed the shutters. It's a black night, calm, and with a great sweeping sound of sea.

I wish you could come into this room for a talk—sit before this wood fire with me and agree that the log has a head like a crocodile and one is like a poodle. The smell is good—of pines and blue gums—and I have one very large pine cone I would cheerfully sacrifice for a kind of illuminated address of welcome—my dear, dear old Boy.

Here comes dinner. I must sit up and prepare to attack it—We have funny food here—macaroni in all the most fantastical shapes and devices—in letters and rats' tails and imitation lace and imitation penny stamps and triangles and shavings. It must be fun to run wild in the Macaroni works. I wonder they don't have an Animal Series,—camels, frogs and Nelephants in one's soup would be particularly nice.

I am afraid that this letter is not, on the whole as serious as it ought to be. I trust, Sir, by the time it reaches you its demeanour will be composed, reverent, grave as befits one who is calling upon a young gentleman at a Publishing House in Thavies Inn.

Take care of yourself in these storms. Do not go up on deck without your big muffler; do not attempt to stow the top-gallant sail but be certain to let go the fore top-gallant halyards while a squall rages.

But here's to Fair Weather for us all.