I
know the poor wretch is making up his mind to cut me, but I must bear
it as best I may.
Now, my dear Sir or Madam, for this melancholy deterioration in the
DABCHICKS you are entirely responsible. I am saddened as I contemplate
it, and I appeal to you. Scarify Dukes and Duchesses, make vain and
useless social prigs as miserable as you like, but leave the DABCHICKS
of this world alone. They are simple folk, and really I cannot think
that the game is worth the candle.
Believe me to be, your obedient servant,
DIOGENES ROBINSON.
* * * * *
BROADLY SPEAKING.
Advised by friend to try Norfolk Broads for holiday. Oulton Broad,
Wroxham Broad, Fritton Decoy (curious name!), Yare, Waveney, and no
end of other rivers. Yachting, shooting, fishing, pretty scenery,
divine air, he says. Have come down to Yarmouth for a start.
Up the Bure in a yacht, and into river Thurne. All right so far. Fish
scarce. My pilot says, "wait till I get to Hickling Broad. _Full_ of
bream and roach." I agree to wait.
In Hickling Broad. Surprised to find notice-boards up all round
saying, "sailing" is prohibited in the Broad, also fishing and
shooting! "What's the meaning of this?" I ask pilot.
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