Manchester 27/12/26 My dear Mummy,

I am writing this from 19 Woodlands RdRoad etc, where I am spending a week or so, gorging, & picking up a good deal of piquant information about Keithles. A very persistent lad, I gather, not without a good many subterfuges which may have imposed on himself, but on nobody else very much, unless perhaps Frannie. However it would be a shame to shout these things around where Auntie might hear them; I might get it back on myself one of these days. I must say the yarn about the motor- bike is not bad though — of course you know that Keithles bought a motor-bike, on which he came merrily spinning up the road regularly enough to 19 Wdlands RdWoodlands Road, home & beauty, whence apparently Father Johnson chucked him out about 11pm every night. The trouble was however that he could never get the bike to start at that time; & after trund- lingtrundling same up & down the road with loud roars & snorts & puffing from bike & swearing from Keithles, he had to go inside & announce that he couldn't get it to go. So naturally being a good Christian family they had to let him stay the night. Well, it wouldn't have mattered once or twice; but it appears the neighbours began to com- plaincomplain to Father Johnson, so he said, Well darn it all, the lad had better stay there anyhow & cut out the motor-bike stunt, as it didn't deceive anybody. anyhow So Keithles stayed & got the girl, who has always given her father a good deal of cheek anyhow. The funny thing was that the bike always went as good as gold in the morning. I've heard a lot of yarns like that; but as I have said, I had better not spread them around too widely for the honour of the family. Still you would have thought that a cove who had parents & brothers (or at least a brother) of the mental calibre of Keithles' relations would have been able to vary the scheme a bit now & then. But apparently it worked so well the first time that he thought, Well here goes! This is easy! & didn't take any more trouble. This proves that that he isn't an artist or he would have tried something fresh occasionally just for the sheer joy of creation. However as he was too busy to study (as Father Johnson told me in his most significant way) no doubt he didn't have much time for gratuitous exercise of his brain; & having perceived his goal, went straight for it with an entire absence of anything like a carefully thought out & coherent plan. This of course may represent the characteristic genius for muddling through, as Frannie succumbed to the onslaught. He appears to have made himself fairly well-known in the district while he was about, but I haven't heard of anyone else falling in love with him. One thing I must object to, & that is the striking likeness everybody professes to find between us, & I may be under the necessity of telling off someone severely before I leave; but up to now I have done my best to radiate the Christmas spirit & turn the other cheek when insulted. However there is a limit to that sort of thing, even with a gentle unassuming sort of cove like me. Of course I suppose you can expect the poor ignorant circumscribed stunted souls in a place like Manchester to know much better. It is a filthy hole, dirtier than London, which is just about putting the lid on. Seven collars have I had to wear in seven days & such is their hue after a couple of hours that they would make a nigger's neck look pale.

I came up here on Thursday afternoon, leaving Duncan behind with a large Christmas cake his cobbers in Sydney sent him with instructions to share it with me, but I haven't any great hopes that I'll get a look in by the time I get back. You see that my fame has spread to Sydney & all his friends are enquiring for a fuller account of my virtues & appearance, what colour eyes, taste in socks etc. As long as they send him Christmas cakes it doesn't matter. By the way, I hope Auntie Win's mysterious parcel turns up all right by the time I get back, & that D.Duncan hasn't scoffed it. Not that I should complain of having to go on to a simple diet again — I have been longing for our simple but satisfying meal of wholem.wholemeal bread & figs & raisins ever since I got here & began to be stuffed. If this crew is a representative English family, no wonder they're the English are a CS nation. Christmas Eve was bad enough, but Christmas Day was disgust- ingdisgusting. There were 15 or 16 people present altogether, & these pro- ceedingproceeding to demolish about ½ ton of provender, including a 70 lbpound turkey, a ham & ?lbspounds of sausages, let alone the rest of the stuff which I needn't particularise. By the time Frannie & Betty & His Nibs had disposed of the washing up, a tri triumph of large scale organisation & expeditious handling, for which I need not say how far I was responsible, it was time to buzz next door to have tea, under which the massive table groaned. The next door mob then came back, the exer- ciseexercise of walking out of one door & into the other being necessary to prepare for supper. Fair dinkum, what with the labour of eating (we didn't get through the 1st course of dinner till ¼ to 3) opening umpteen cider bottles with a screwdriver, clearing tables & washing up, starting motor-cars ( for it was me that cranked up a car triumphantly that had been freezing outside for 8 hours or so with run down batteries), pounding the piano as a soloist & for songs (Watchman what of the night etc), & giving all manner of useful hints & tips, by the time I crawled up the stairs to bed I was a tired man. And now that most pe of the crowd are nearly back to normal we are all going in next door again to night for a whist drive or something equally nonsensical & damnable. Father Johnson kicked up a bit over this & reckoned that he & Jack ought to be allowed to stay at home for a bit of in- tellectual converse; but Mrs J.Johnson got going in the normal pained motherly-wifely style that I know so well; so it looks as if ou we are doomed. I hope to God I never have a wife who goes all twittery at the idea of hurting the feelings of the neigh- boursneighbours. Or the relatives. If I had known I should have thought twice before coming up, but it can't be helped now. Perhaps we shall be allowed to play ping-pong or something nice like that. However I seem to have got off the subject of feeding, which is perhaps just as well. I am not a bigot on this subject, as you know, & have not had much of a chance to be a vegetarian since I left home, but swelpso help me, if I had to stand this sort of thing as a regular custom, I'd conk out in no time. No wonder the kids are so unhealthy, either; they are bogging in from morn to eve, with vigour, smacking of lips, & loud cries. I'd soon settle their hash if I had charge of them. They are not bad kids though apart from that. The other girl is not a bad sort either. Sings & plays a bit, & the lad has quite a good voice & uses it pretty well. Everybody (talking of th singing) thinks Keithles had very good taste in the way of songs; which speaks well for me, I think, as I picked most of th his for him. But of course I didn't say so, being a modest sort of cove. They think I've got very good taste too in music, so I just let them think it's in the family generally, & let it go at that. I needn't say anything about Father & Mother Johnson; she runs around like a little sparrow, but doesn't seem to have much control over anybody; while F.J.Father Johnson is the help- less Eng.English paterfamilias all right — doesn't so a hand's turn. I had quite a chat with him on things generally the night I got here; he thinks the Unitarian movement in this country is dead, & he doesn't worry about him himself; so he isn't surprised it has faded out in N.Z.New Zealand He is barmy on Walt Whitman, & informed me he knew him as few other men did; but very few people know how to read WWWalt Whitman. He then took down Leaves of Grass & proceeded to read me a few chunks, after which I decided it was just as well. He then sug pushed a volume of prose works, prefaces etc on me, & suggested I should read the same while I was here; so I said I should give it a go. He doesn't seem at all backward about his own knowledge & accomplishments, but he appears to have had a pretty interesting life, knew Kropotkin & Baron von Hügel & all sorts of coves. One of founders of Oxford Univ.University Fabian Society etc etc. His family seem pretty comprehensively ignorant for such a father; but that may be characteristically English for all I know. We have had a good bit of fun scandalising them together the last couple of days. I went to church last night after an argument with Frannie of considerable duration as to whether anybody's feelings would be hurt if I stayed away (unfortun- atelyunfortunately went to sleep during the sermon, but I was upstairs in in a corner by myself so E it didn't matter). Hell, the organist like a silly ass, for p a closing voluntary played the Hallelujah Chorus & the whole crowd stood up stock still in their pews; but I who had had to stand while he did the same thing the morning before hopped out & walked home. And letting this slip casually out, you never heard such a horrified outcry! Mrs J.Johnson quite paled. F'sFrannie's breath taken away. Father J'sJohnson sister struck all of a heap. But this was nothing to the sensation caused when the conversa- tionconversation having drifted via standing up generally & God Save the King & London customs in connection therewith, I had the face to suggest to Father JJohnson's sister's husband, who was going off in a paroxysm of more or less inarticulate admiration for the BrBritish Empire that per- hapsperhaps the said empire would come to an end some day from the instability of its social system, & added not with entire truth that I was a Socialist. They all paled distinctly & leapt from their chairs as if I had stuck a pin in all of them simultaneously. (Father JJohnson wasn't there then) And then we had a snorter ding- dong argument. You ought to have heard Mrs J.Johnson & the Father JJohnson's sister on socialists & the dole & Ramsay McacDMacDonald & A.J. Cook & the Bolsheviks & when they would be put in gaol; while the husband leant forward earnestly & positively interrupted me. However it wasn't much good, as none of them had the vaguest idea what they were talking about; but it evidently quite stirred them up as they all started off again this morning at breakfast without a word from me or a contribution from me & went merrily on in the most satisfying way. The sister has a delightful sim- plicitysimplicity somewhat reminiscent of R. Denton. What is wrong with the social system? Nothing. Why are people down & out, having to sell matches or themselves in London streets? Drink. Why do they drink? Weak will. Q.E.D.Quod erat demonstrandum Dear, dear, it's an irrational world. The sister's husband is a great old lad, retired something or other, benevolent face if somewhat dull, bald head, deaf in one ear; he has a great admiration for the Daily Mail because of its fine principles, & regales me on English history from its pages. His great hero is Oliver Cromwell, but he shouldn't have cut off King Charles' head — he evidently feels about this strongly as he repeated it several times during the day. Oh, they're a hummer crowd — a man needs a dictaphone going all day to take it all down. This old lad thinks it is a great mis- takemistake to give votes to all girls of 21; will mean the ruin of the country; he rea thinks really men shouldn't get the vote till they're 25, & then the country would be governed on sound, lines. A man of 40, now, was able to give a really sound, reliable, well-thought out, reasoned vote; I expressed some doubt about this, & suggested cutting out the vote altogether, but no, that would simply not do. Most illuminating views on the Chinese problem too, & why Australia was colonised; all of which he lays down with an air of quite infallible triumph — Well well, I suppose all this hotch-potch is characteristic of the great English middle-class, male & female; which accounts for a great deal of our abnormal mess up of a history. No wonder a cove like Shaw left them gasping like sick fish. And yet, my oath! They've produced Shakespeare & DrDoctor Johnson & Keats! What a mix-up. The old lad doesn't bear me any malice & pats me on the back paternally & they all praise the lord thankfuly when Father Johnson says I'll grow out of it — he was worse than that once.

We had some good fus fun before I came up here, going to a few of the plays previously omitted; or rather to some which had come on in their place. About the best play I have seen was the Doctor's Dilemma done by the MacDona Players; by gosh! it was a snorter — everybody first rate without a single exception, the doctors most extraordinarily well done, Dubedat excellent, Jennifer done by Gwen Ffrangçon Davies — by jingo! she is good. The old doctor, & B.B.Bloomfield Bonington with the fruitiest voice imaginable, were the best of the quacks — you never heard anything so magnificent as "Stimulate the phagocytes!"! I think this crowd is doing a whole season of Shaw in the New Year; they have some farce or other on now, the Private Secretary, I think. Then we went to The Would Be Gentleman run by Nigel Play- fair at Hammersmith; the thing is made into a roaring farce, & N.PNigel Playfair's Jourdain is not much like Molière's; but here again everybody was good; & the scenery & stage furni- turefurniture etc by Norman Wilkinson also extraordinarily fine. He did a lot of the G & SGilbert and Sullivan stuff as well. The after- noon after this we went to the Church House Westminster to see the Coventry Nativity Play set to music by Rutland Boughton, the Great Communist Composer — this was another very good thing, done in modern dress & the three wise men in academic gowns, Herod in flash evening dress & top hat, his servants a Br. policeman & two soldiers; the entrances & exits were all over the hall & the chorus crowd pranced around all over the place. They put it across jolly well on the whole. They had quite a small stage with Joseph's house, & the manger & Herod's palace all stuck together like this

Sketch diagram of stage for production of Coventry Nativity Play

The angels had to be more or less idealised beings as far as costume went, of course. Music unequal but on the whole very good with one or two carols interwoven; He is pretty good at that sort of traditional stuff is R.B.Rutland Boughton all right.

28/12/26 I resume though I think I have really given you most of the news to date. As far as plays go, we have two or three up our sleeve yet — Peter Pan is on, — Treasure Island; while I want to see also The White-Headed Boy & I have a mind to go to the Country Wife to see what it's like; for while most of the lads who write the critiques said it was indecent bosh, James Agate said, frankly it amused him very much. Likewise we are going along to see a family of actresses McGMcGrath knows as soon as I get back, one of whom has one of the leading parts in it, so I may be said to have a distantly personal interest in the thing. The trouble is that the cheapest Criterion & Everyman seats where these things are, are 3/- & 3/6, while we had hummer seats for Shaw & Molère for 1/6 & 1/2; & when there are so many pressing ways to dispose of cash it means a considerable balancing of goods when you have got to keep within £3 week. I reckon out £2 for living in all its details & £1 for pleasures — or rather education in a broad sense, books, music plays etc. What a man needs is about £1000 yryear for 5 yrsyears. These tiddly winking scholarships are no good.

I was dragged out to this party last night to the Tooley's next door, but it proved not to be a whist affair — that is to be on the 5th Jan, when I shall have departed hence. Ping-pong & conversation one or two songs & usual performance by me, rotten piano, out of tune, notes so stiff that they wear you out in five minutes; but as everybody talks all the while in the good old English way it doesn't make any difference to the music. I had it explained to me that it was the English custom to talk during piano performances, but songs were different; but I'm sure Jack doesn't mind! You needn't worry — I didn't bring up the subject or complain in the least. The English mind is in an intensely fascinating one to study. I had another brawl at & after breakfast this morning with Father JJohnson & Brother-in-Law; most illuminating. B in LBrother-in-Law told me all about why the war started. The funny thing about the lad is that he starts off always in the most completely self-depre- catingself-deprecating way "If just an ordinary common man in the street might say something" etc; & then proceeds to make the most amazing- lyamazingly dogmatic statements about which there can be no possible argu- mentargument whatever. There is a really delightful simplicity about the old lad. He makes daring little sallies of long-ruminated humour suddenly now & then leaps back & hugs himself with im- menseimmense appreciation. "John dear" says his wife "John dear, you must let Jack say something now" So Jack says something which sends the whole crew off again. But Father J.Johnson is the bird for argument — you can't get a word in edgeways; & what- everwhatever word does manage to creep through the barrage is im- mediatelyimmediately fastened on & made the subject of a fresh torrential outburst. He knows. He has knocked about; he has had a pretty wide experience; he has known them all intimately. And the world won't get anywhere without Religion. Well, of course all I ever get a chance to say is that I doubt it. He says something good occasionally. The trouble is that he doesn't believe in discussing anything with his family, who are all more or less morons in his estimation; so that when Frannie hops in with a spirited word he turns around & squashes her, or anybody else. But I gather from postscripts or postverba in the kitchen that the rest of the family is fundamentally unreligious beneath the onslaught. In the ordinary affairs of household life he gets a lot of backchat, nobody being in the least adv averse from telling him he is a born fool, which is not a great distance from the truth, possibly. A complacent enough cove, I should say; of course he is a parson. It is really all very interesting. — He took me out to see a place called Heaton Park, with Heaton Hall one of the stately homes etc, now used as an art gallery & for receptions & so on — they have some glorious water colours of the Norwich school there, Cox, Cotman, de Wint etc; & a fine house. The old English aristocracy perhaps justified a part of their existence by their building. I always think these places are a bit improved by their photographs in Country Life, though. Still the way the windows were arranged to catch the view, & the way a fountain was placed to improve the view are really triumphant. They use the place for golf & football & bowls children's sandpits & so forth now; which possibly would have horrified the Earls of Wilton in their glory.

Thankyou very much for your Christmas letter. I got a reasonably sized mail for once — about 12 letters in all, contained about £3, which will be put to excellent & care- fullycarefully thought out use. Your 30/- was very welcome; I have half a mind to spend 25/- of it on the new cheap Oxford edition of Jane Austen in 5 volsvolumes; since nobody can now make a speech or write an article or deliver a lecture without some- how dragging in the divine Jane by the scruff of her neck I suppose it's up to a rough raw colonial to seek the light. Please thank Auntie very much for her letter & monetary enclosure thereof — I shall write to her when less pressed by hospitality & vagaries of mails. Also Keithles & Ern & all others who did the handsome. By the way I see that Zimmerman thing of the Turnbull LibyLibrary is the end in the a series of mono- graphsmonographs — what's the first? You might send me anything that comes out of that description & charge up to my a/caccount. Of course the darn series starts too late to get me any public- itypublicity, curse it; I've got a nice little thing entirely suitable for publication in same. I might get something out of Johannes even yet. I may write to him some time. — I was very glad to read in your letter & most of the others that I got that you were getting the appearance & constitution of a fighting-cock, Mummy; so keep up the good work. Like- wise to hear of Daddy's holiday; I suppose the break is coming to an end about now; I hope you both got plenty of reading done. I don't read much, though I am hoping to get through Inge's "England" whie I am here, which I saw on FFatherJJohnson's shelves — he has got one of the roughest looking collections of books I ever saw; & of course I may get some Walt Whit- manWhitman forced in yet. He is fanatical about T.E. Brown also; so it seems that Keithles must have got quite a good poetical education while he was here. He is reading my poetical works at present; no doubt that will be a further enthusiasm.

Points in your letters: My friends seem to be a good deal more attentive to you than they ever were to me, Mummy. This seems generally the way with anybody we do a kindness to & bring into the house — you immediately turn them round & vamp them, & we hear nothing ever after but what a charming mother the Beagleholes have, what a fine woman Mrs Beaglehole is, isn't Mrs Beaglehole a stunner & this, that that & the other thing. It is very discouraging. — McGMcGrath's caricature wasn't much like me, but he did it in about 5 min- utesminutes for foolery & I wouldn't keep my head still, so he didn't get much of a chance. He has given me some good woodcuts swapped for a some of my stuff. I think I am going down to Auntie Jeanne's again for two or three days after this burst — she asked me down for Xmas, but the JJohnsons's got in first. I suppose you will have heard by now whether I am a dear boy or not. — I ran into the Dentons at Jimmy Parr's the other day & said I might buzz out to see them before they pushed off. I am not too keen on hearing RDR. Denton solve the social problem though. — I get the impression that Auntie has taken to the Open Road for keeps from the way she is wandering about the N.North Island; why doesn't she carry a sleeping bag & sleep out? — It'd do her the world of good. I am glad to hear Ern is taking to the military life with the usual Beaglehole enthusiasm & esprit de corps. Of course anything that will help to make a man of him is all to the good, whatever effect it has on the international situation. Daddy had better lay in a supply of those 1/6 fountain pens. I think that Florence Preu Milton is the best book C & W have published; I don't go much on their other F.P. poets — two square & squat in the page. Thanks for Ern's poem; it reminds me more of R. F. Fortune's style than of mine. Quite good for the T.C. magazine I think.

Well, here's happy days, as I say as I raise my glass of Johnsonian burgundy with t usual love from Jack.