The Jasper Club

Dear Sirs, Madams, Mistresses, Masters and Stallions,

I regret to inform you that I am carving thusly because a matter of grave insignifiance has been rudely thrust upon my attention. Namely......

Could the cruel kindnesses be indifferent?

Or should they be multiplied to infinity?

Perhaps you would deign to consider this hot potato with the solemnity that it warrants. I, for one, trust not.

Yours hypothetically,

Cartwell o'The Heights
Wealas

I used to know a Corker of a Spaniel known as Jasper. A man called Butler threw him in a pond.

I bumped into Jeeves and Wooster yesterday playing cricket on the greens in the lovely little hamlet of Underlay-under-Bannister.

Vivian Snatch had made a lovely victoria sponge and introduced me to her fiance, a rather portly and obnoxious gent called Woderick Spode. I wondered why I took an instant dislike to this man. Besides his affiliations to the Nazi party that is. Then I saw him tamper with a red leather cricket ball. He must have had two balls about his person, on the very disconcerting evidence of his ungainly stride towards the club house.

To all my friends at the Jasper Club - just watch out. Woderick Spode polishes his balls!