P026 19370509

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Please tell us which page of which Portmanteua.

PORTMANTEAU 026
                                                                          Redwood,
                                                                            Livingstone
                                                                             N. Rhodesia.
                                                                         9th May, 1937.
Darling Everybody,

Well, I am still in Livingstone waiting for next Sunday, when the Griffin (I call her Nell) and I go up to Lusaka, and I'm beginning to get used to being a Spindle again – though Robin rather spoils that illusion! Did you get our wires? I sent one to Mum and Dad on Thursday, and one to Mummy on Friday after I had seen The Clothes. Not a sign of Mum's wire to us on our birthday, so you'd better enquire at your end as they probably haven't sent it.

The last portmanteau went last Tuesday, so I'll start from there. Mrs Jager is SO nice, and is being very helpful to me about children and so on. Richard is only 13 months old, and is too adorable, so fat and podgy and smooth and boneless; he is just able to pull himself up onto his feet now, but he is so heavy that he can't stay there for long and plumps down onto his fat little behind after a few seconds, he was weighed this morning – 23 lbs 11 oz, and goes up 7 ounces a week! Mrs is marvellous at managing them all, she has a white nurse-girl called Kathie who lives near, but Kathie went and got mumps or glands or something on Thursday and doesn't get back till tomorrow (Monday) so she has been managing all this time by herself, and with the fact me to look after too.

A plane was going to Mungo, so I managed to write a letter and it was dropped at Sesheke by parachute, and when the plane arrived back on Wednesday morning it had stayed the night with him and had a letter for me, all very exciting. I sent another up on Wednesday morning too, and got another that evening with my suitcase, but I won't get another till next Friday, when the ordinary mail comes in, such a long time to wait, and after that I won't get one for weeks and weeks and WEEKS as it will have to come all the way from Mankoya to Lusaka. Still, it doesn't really matter, as we don't need to write to each other to know what we're thinking!

On Tuesday Mrs and I went up to the town (where about half a mile down the road towards the Falls from the shopping cart, just by the sawmills) and I told the post office to hold all our letters and I'll send them on to him when I finished them; I transferred all my money to the bank in Lusaka for the time being so that I can draw there on my usual cheques; I ordered a huge bunch of things to go to Mankoya from the A.L.C.and told them to let me know when any dogs arrived for us so that I could see them before they went up to G.

Oh, and I must tell you the most extraordinary coinci-

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dence, when I was in the.O.I told the man I was Mrs clay, and a lady licking stamps next door to me said "did you say you were Mrs clay? My sister went to your wedding." She was Mrs Dudley, wife of the local padre and sister of Mrs Bannon at Froyle! Wasn't it extraordinary. She was awfully nice and so chatty and asked me up to tea.

In the afternoon Mrs took me out to tea at the Falls Hotel. The Falls are very full just now, and were almost completely hidden in spray, but just the glimpses we got of it really were simply incredibly marvellous; the Knife Edge so black and sharp and the great tall column of foamy water we could just see pouring over the edge beyond it.

On the way home we went round and shot cards on the Sylvester's open bracket he's D.C., acting P.C. while Cartmell-Robinson's on leave, and he's the bloke what took Dad out fishing last April, very nice indeed, and they are about the most popular couple in the place I think and are retiring in July, everybody's so sorry) but they were out, so we shot some more on the Onionses, D.O.under Sylvester, and they were also out so we shot some more on the judge, Mr Francis, who was in and nervous and mad on gardening and titles and showed his marvellous roses which he feeds on BLOOD. His wife hasFleabitis and is in bed so we didn't see her, but he is asked to sell to tea when she is better.

Wednesday the 5th May
Mrs has very kindly given me complete foie gras (or whatever the phrases) with the car, a 1936 Terraplane, very nice, so I carted myself up to Mrs Dudley's to tea in the morning; she had been a missionary in nice land and so was he, and they weren't allowed to the married in that particular mission because so many of the places they were sent to were quite unsuitable for wives, and the result was that the wives used to go off home, plus children, and the mission had to keep them and they weren't doing their husbands or anybody any good and only taking their husbands minds of their work with worrying about them, so they abolished wives. So the Dudleys left the mission and were stationed at Aldershot for some time, and now here. She knows your new parson, Hugh de Fleming, very well and says he's awfully nice. He was President – oh now, I don't think I'll tell you about that until I asked her again, because it's about athletics and Oxford and Cambridge and I expect I'll get them all wrong and G. will go up in a sheet of flame – but anyway Hugh de Fleming is an Athlete and used to do hundred and 20 yards hurdles (I KNOW I've got that right anyway!) and High Jumping and all sorts of exciting things, and never says a WORD about it's because he's so modest.

The padre is a dear old bird with longish, snow-white hair and such a nice, kind, peaceful-looking face.

In the afternoon, when weird taken Mr J. to golf, we

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went out for a drive towards Katambora, which is where all the mail barges land, about 30 miles outside the town. It was not a very good road – the usual two sandy wheel tracks with grassy hunt down the middle – and we turned off after about 10 miles and went to see the site of Old Livingstone; the town used to be there until about 20 years ago, when they moved it to here because the other place was so unhealthy. Now the only signs that any human beings have ever lived there are four lemon trees and a little avenue of gum trees and the cemetery, which is kept up by the Toc H. Everything else has been eaten up by white ants – not a stone to be seen or ruin anywhere. It is on a lovely stretch of river with bushy islands, very crocy looking.

That evening Miss Griffin arrived on the 9.30 train and I went to meet her in the car. I walked along the platform, and pasture, and looked back in case it was her, and she looked back so I knew it was, she was much lower and rather fatter than I expected, I don't know why but I imagined her rather tall. She was absolutely thrilled to the backbone to be In Africa, and had hardly slept at all in the train as she was so excited, and all the time she was asking people "is THAT the jungle?" Etc., apparently having the time of her life!

We left the Fairmount man to manage the luggage, and I swept her off there in the car, and we talked and talked and talked, all about you, money, and the Clothes, and the journey and everything, she had just loved the voyage out – after the first day! Nina Gordon had met her at Cape Town and she had two hours there and then leapt into the train and only had two nights and three days which I think is marvellously quick, we took four days and four nights I believe.

She swears she won't go back to England unless she gets thinner, so we'll see what we can do in the way of hard work and heat and exercise! She has been betted £5 that if she does go home she will be out here again within a year, and she is now very sorry she took on the bet as she doesn't think she could ever bear to go back to England now. She's quite batty about the Great Wide Open Spaces, so I think she'll enjoy Mankoya all right. It was splendid of you to get a person like that, Mummy, and I know she'll never be hankering after towns and cinemas like some people might, and she is so keen on learning all the names of animals and things, and has already snapped up my little book of Wemba words and is learning them off so that she can talk to the boys easily by the time we get to Mankoya! 

Thursday the 6th
I too thought up in the car and took Nell out shopping, we bought her a camera (£3 a very nice one, Zeiss-Ikon about the size of a Brownie Two, with stops for light and distance and everything, very fancy) and ordered a lot of toothpaste etc. be sent direct to Mankoya, and went

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down to try and get the things through the Customs, but we weren't allowed to and had to go and tell the A.L.C.to do it for us. And I weighed myself in Moore's [the chemist], and I weigh eight stone NINE lbs, so Robin is going to weigh at least 7 pounds, isn't that fine.

After tea I took her out to the falls, she hadn't seen them on the way up as it was dark, but she'd heard them, and she nearly wept with excitement. They really are stupendous, and I could just sit and gaze at them by the hour – if me 'usbind were here, last time I saw them we were all honeymoonsy.

We looked at the animals in the Game Park two, which thrilled her to the marrow and she wanted to know what they all were – the sable, eland, duiker, impala, Sititunga and bush buck were all there in the nursery, and the three zebras and the two wildebeest, Judy and Bill, were all standing up against the fence of the main enclosure, little Shirley Temple the baby zebra quite grown up and indistinguishable from the others now. No sign of the giraffe though.

Friday the 7th
it's been marvellous weather now, quite cold and fresh in the mornings, hot all day and lovely and cool at night – two or three blankets in fact. It's such a good plan having Robin in the cold weather, because it would be terribly trying if it were hot now.

I went up to the A.L.C., and they said "your dog's come" and they brought her up, Judy, the little Bull Terrier bitch from Lusaka, two months old. She was very nervous at first and arrived on her tummy with her tail underneath and her little pink-rimmed eyes rolling, but she soon perked up when I called her by her name and soothed and petted her for a bit, and ended by putting her little paws up on my lap and snuggling with her nose and wagging her tail, quite happy. They said "when do you want her sent up to Sesheke?" So I said NOW. (Do It Now, in fact). So they rang up the P.O.who said, no the mail to Sesheke has not gone yet, the lorry is just panting on the doorstep waiting for the bag to be sealed up. So they got a box and a sack and we put her in and she curled up quite happily chewing biscuits with great gusto, and they nailed some slats across the top, which she didn't like awfully, and they painted G.C.R. CLAY on the top in vast blue letters and off she went on somebody's head.

When she gets onto the barge they will let her out, and she's got a bag of biscuits with her and instructions to buy milk etc, and she ought to arrive this morning at crack of dawn, so G. will be able to take her up to Mankoya with him and Merry. She was a nice little animal, though I'm no judge of Bull Terriers, but she was a good deal longer and lighter and slimmer than the Great Bill Watmore at Mungo, who was really only an animated pudding.

They have also heard from the kennels at Umtali, about 

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Merry's wife, and when she arrives I think I will take her up to Lusaka with me and keep her there until I hear of the plane going over Mankoya. We had actually asked J.D.Martin at Machili if he had very kindly look after them until we sent somebody down to fetch them, if any more arrived, but now I think this is the best plan, and also avoids the little animal having to do that long ten days' walk with a boy, and going through a belt of Fly country. Don't you think that would be best, darling?

I have also heard from The HORSE! I think I told you that after all that humming and hawing when we first arrived, as to whether to ask for the horse or not, we at last decided that we WOULD get it. It's the marvellous little the pseudo-pony belonging to MrsKey at Mafeking, and I rode it when we were there last April, and she NEVER rides it and it's just wasting its glory on the desert air; well, luckily she's going home this year, so it'll be a good opportunity for her to get rid of it – she couldn't before as it was a present from Sir Herbert Stanley. So I wrote and asked if it was for sale and if so how much is a very much like to buy, and she wrote back "I should be delighted to GIVE you the pony…" Isn't it marvellous!

But the difficulty is getting it there – it would be quite simple if it weren't for that annoying little patch of Fly, but we can't put him into a mosquito-wired box like we would the dogs! So he either has to walk from Livingstone to Sesheke, and then branch off through the bush leaving Machili and the Fly well on his right, and that ought to take him about a fortnight we'd have to get somebody we could rely on to walk in there; our own boys are no good as they are terrified of forces, having never seen any before they came here! Or else I thought perhaps we could rail him up to Lusaka and get somebody to walk him out along the new road, which I think would be the better way, though I don't know; he would have to cross the Caerphilly in a canoe! However I expect we'll manage it somehow – what a pity we can't just jump him into an aeroplane!

Then I went along to the Fairmount and saw all the CLOTHES!! Oh, money, they ARE lovely, all the little frocks and petticoats and vests and nighties, and the WOOLLY BOOTS! Also some lovely nighties for me – are they the ones Mrs feather made, because they looked like bought ones? The two blues and the white satin. And the beautiful shawls and the little woolly bed jacket, they ARE so nice and I'm so thrilled with them all.

Saturday the 8th.
Mrs and I went up to the church bazaar, and took tickets in all the raffles, there was a fine big jar of blue bath salts that I wanted, but didn't get, and

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the only thing I got was a foul little box of foul little sweets, which Jessie is busily consuming!

I met Mrs Haslau there, the wife of a Customs man, they were in the next cabin to Heather and I on the Llandovery and got back from leave in November, just after me 'usbind and I had got to Sesheke. Jessie and Mary are watching the tripe writing with great interest, Mary loves watching the letters jumping about but it is rather nerve-racking, specially when she puts her finger in the middle "to see what will happen". So it's rather difficult to think straight so I think I'm very clever not to be writing complete Tosh, or am I?

Mr Jager went off to golf, to try and win the Hippo cup for the second year running, but was feeling rotten and came home with bad lumbago and a touch of flu, so has gone up to the hospital for a few days rest. He wouldn't stay in bed if he stayed at home, somebody would be dashing across from the sawmill all the time to ask him something and he would get up and go to the office and not rest at all. He is very young – only about 34 – and he is general manager of all three branches of the sawmills, here, atMulobezi, and at Bulawayo, and has been for about five years.

I took Nell out to the Falls, and we went to the upper road through the forest, and stopped at the Big Tree and took photos from the platform at the top of it; there was a huge amount of spray, and I took a film of it, I don't know if it will come out but it looked as if it ought to. There was more spray even then yesterday, asked of it were blowing under the bridge and coming up on either side, and the Eastern Cataract was hardly visible. 

We went across to the Devil's Cataract and although I knew more or less what to expect it even took my breath away for the moment it was so terrific; last time I saw it there wasn't half so much water, and now it was going full blast and really was the most wonderful sight, and she nearly wept with delight.

We meant to go through the Game Park on our way home, but we just sat and sat and gazed and gazed that by the time we came out of our coma the wasn't time.

That night Mrs and I went to the Flicks. It was that ducky little Shirley Temple in "The Littlest Rebel", and Jessie had been in the afternoon and loved it. She really is the most adorable little person, and she was marvellous in this; her mother died, and it was so pathetic that the tears just rolled down my cheeks. It was all about the American Civil War, and her father was a spy in the rebel army, and the colonel in the Yankee army completely fell in love with Shirley and helped him escape to take her to safety, but they were caught and he and the kind colonel condemned to death,

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so Shirley went to the President in Washington, sat on his knee and ate half his apple for him so he let them go, and that was that! There was a lovely Pop-Eye the Sailor Man too, and he ate a HUGE tin of spinach all in one mouthful, as usual.

Monday,10th May.
I'm typing in bed at Screech of Dawn (quarter to nine) – I have breakfast in bed every morning, it keeps me nicely out of the way while she fixes the children, but I have to get up in a minute; I'm going to tea with Mrs saga, police, this morning, she's very young and sprightly and very nice, a great friend of Elizabeth Martins and Elizabeth always stays with her when she comes into Livingstone. Which reminds me, J.D.and Elizabeth are going home on leave this year, they sail about 10th of July I think, so I'm trying to get E. to come into Livingstone to have a binge before I go as I shan't see her again for years unless she loses her way and lands up at Mankoya by mistake any time! She couldn't come with J.D. the other day and she had to stay and look after Mrs Purchase who hadn't been well and had a tiny baby to look after as well.

 Yesterday, Sunday, was a very quiet day, we didOT go to church because we were too busy doing nothing. I started this portmanteau and watched Mrs make a delicious chocolate ice, so  LOOK OUT, darling, I'll be trying it on you directly I get home! It was lovely, just like the ones they have on board ship, but not rich and sickly like all our efforts have been. 

After lunch we had a Grand Concert, by Jessie and Mary. Jessie was author, director, producer, stage manager, artist and actor, and it was a wonderful performance, lasting 25 minutes. There were two dances (just skipping around the stage and holding hands and swinging each other round), Jessie sang (?!) Frere Jacques in French, and recited Little Polly Flinders; Mary recited 
Rub-a-dub-dub 
Three men in a tub 
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker 
They all jumped out of a roasted potater
all in one breath and very fast, also Ten Little Nigger Boys, which was very long and a very good effort for four-and-a-half, don't you think? Then we had the alpha bit in girls names, they took it in turn to come in and curtsy and hold up a little painted notice saying A for Adelaide, B for Betty, J for Jessie, M for Mary, U for Ursula, X and Y we don't know, Z for Zina.

Then there was an interval of five minutes, and the audience went out while the scenery (table and chair) was placed on the stage, and then we had a play called "the Kind Fairy" into acts, one of the Fairy reading her letters, and the other showed Jessie picking flowers for her mother and the Fairy came along and carted her off to Fairyland. The End. All very sweet and original, and we each had a handsome Programme painted by Jessie.

After tea I took Nell and Jessie out to the Falls. Poor

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Mrs hasn't been able to go out lately as Kathie the nurse-girl is away so she has to put Mary and Richard to bed. We went to the Devil's Cataract again, and it looked quite different from yesterday, and I think if one went every day for the whole of one's life that would be something new every time; it almost seems to change as you look at it. Then we went on and consumed some vast orange squashes and then came home; we wanted to go through the game Park again, but it was too late, and when we called in at the nursery we could only see one little person there, everybody else had gone to bed.

So that's all the news. I got a nice fat letter from Mummy and a nice fat letter from Mum on Thursday, sent them off to G. on Friday by the mail. How tragic, poor little Rusty being so ill and I do hope he is home again and quite well by now; we've always been so lucky with our dogs, haven't we and I think this is the first one we've ever had who got distemper, isn't he? Equivalent to distemper out here is biliary, and according to old Pa Cambell every dog in Barotse gets it at one time or another, and the only cure is an immediate injection of tripe and blue, so soon as we got Merry I got a bottle of it so I hope ours will be all right.

I'm so glad the films Are all good, and were longing to see them, and will even more so when we send home films of Our Son! I wonder if any of them are worth making "stills" out of, so that we can stick them into our Scrap Book, as I have taken very few photos with G.'s little still camera as I am so bad at it.WE'll probably get some good ones with the lovely new camera I've got for Nell, though, so we'll have photos of Robin to send home as quickly as possible. If you DO think any of the films are worth cutting a chunk out of four are still, it would be very nice.

The garden at Abbotswood sound too lovely, Mummy and all the prims coming out; what an awful bore both you and Daddy being ill though and Adi giving him a cold, and the maids being so dreadful. G. will be very pleased to hear that you managed to find a hole for The Old Boy and the Sinister roan's head.

I AM NOT COMING HOME next year. It was bad enough going away for just these three months, even though we are comparatively near each other, but I don't think I could possibly go away again so soon, and for a longer time, and so far away. G. has already had quite long enough alone, at Mankoya too, and what IS the good of his having a wife if she goes popping off every few minutes? Even if I didn't want to, it's my business to be with him; this going away was absolutely necessary, but it would be almost impossible for me to leave him for no apparent reason, AND take his own son away from him to, just when he was beginning to get Interesting. And you see we both the SO mizzie that I wouldn't enjoy being at home a bit, and you wouldn't like me at all because I'd be wanting to get back all the time!

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I talked about going home so arrogantly before, but now that I know what it's like to be away from him I don't think I could possibly do it again without a VERY good reason.

But. What about YOU coming out here?! I don't know if you've made any plans yet for next winter, Mum, but if not why don't you come out here and see US? I don't know if you want to leave Abbotswood when you've only just got settled there, Mummy, but I'm quite sure it isn't good for you to stay in England in the cold, and it would do you such a lot of good, the sea voyage and all.

What we thought might be a good plan is this: you all come out and stay somewhere at Cape Town or near there, or else come up and stay at the lovely "but very expensive,25/- a day) Falls Hotel or somewhere, and G. and Robin and I get a month's local leave and spend it with you wherever you choose to park yourselves. If you wanted to stay more than that, G. could go home again and if absolutely necessary Robin and I might manage to tear ourselves away from him and stay with you a bit longer – however long you cared to stay.

I would suggest that you come toMankoya, only that the time I imagine you would come – roundabout the New Year, or Jan-Feb-March – it would be rather mosquito-ey and we don't want to run the risk of any of you getting fever, but of course it would be doubly marvellous if you did come out there to see our own home and all our dogs and everybody.

Well, it's only an idea, and we WOULD love it so if you could come, and then you could combine getting away from the winter, the lovely sea voyage, seeing Africa again, seeing your children AND YOUR GRANDSON!! So do think it over and try VERY hard to come, won't you. It WOULD be such fun.

I've just been up and seen Nell again, and she produced a letter from Mummy which came to the hotel, and poor Mum's been in bed again with the throat and the house in a glorious mess and Fenella coming to stay and Mum coming over to see it! What a rotten time you are having, aren't you, Mummy. Yes, I will see what my wiles can achieve over getting them to allow Nell to come into hospital with me, when I get there, and I may be able to prevail over them if I do it in person rather than on paper. I agree, it would be SO much nicer, and it would be rather a waste if she wasn't allowed to look after me, but we're going to get going on clothes for him to wear when he grows too big for the little ones we've got so she will be kept very busy on that.

I can't write any more now as I must take this to post.

With lots and lots of love from 

me.