Boyling!

I have an appointment to beat the dastardly locals at a “friendly” game of cricket this afternoon, so I’m afraid I must keep this brief. (The little German inside of you will appreciate that last sentence, I’m sure.)

You will never believe what has happened. Yesterday Lord Jamés got married! We all knew that this day would come, but that it would arrive so soon makes one feel rather old, does it not? I am nowhere near even pondering to relinquish the liberties of bachelordom and I can scarcely imagine such a drastic change in my persona taking place any time soon. Lord Jamés, however, I am pleased to announce, is now married to the great love of his life - Lady Bea (now Lady Bea-Jamés, hyphenated) - and they have already begun enjoying the rest of their lives together.

This blissful undertaking has not been without its casualties, though. This morning I was awoken by a heartbroken Bosie. No, he did not summon me on the telephonic apparatus in my drawing-room, nor did he dispatch a messenger to break down my door. That’s right, he came here in person. Lord knows how young Giddy-Gaylord managed to transport his well-dressed self all the way to Venice in so short a time, but there he was, standing in a corner of my room and biting his manicured nails as though it would somehow numb the pain in his soul. I’m sure you can imagine my despair as I woke up and covered my naked private parts with the closest thing at hand (in this case, the equally naked young lady beside me). I cringe at the thought of him standing there. Who knows how long he had been there before I awoke?!

In any event, he confirmed what I already knew. Lord Jamés was no longer available, not even on the faintest of metaphysical plains. I really hate seeing Bosie in such a state. He even sobbed all through my morning cup of tea. Reading the paper, as I am prone to do during my breakfast, was nearly impossible with all the noises he was emitting. Don’t worry, Boyling. It pleases me to tell you that I at least caught this morning’s main headlines.

But how I digress… As you know, Bosie has been bombarding Lord Jamés with sonnets the past handful of years, much to the dismay of the Lord in question. I can now officially report that this compulsion has finally come to an end. In fact, Bosie was even reluctant to send his final sonnet to the County of NewNose, as he had spent all night writing it in the salty ink of his woes. Instead, he gave it to me and made me swear not to show it to anyone. Boyling, you must promise me not to tell him that I have attached a copy of it for your anxious eyes in this very envelope…

Now I must be off to demonstrate the true use of pitch and wickets.

In the meantime, let us rejoice for Lord and Lady Jamés! May they live happily ever after!

Write me back soon and tell me of your exploits.

Pip-Pip,

Ponkleton