From the journal of The Lady Eileen
Blooming row that Water Pump was making.
I don't know when the Aldclyffes last had it greased. Anyway, we just sent Charley down to sort it out. Much quieter, and I thought they'd be grateful. But old Captain Aldclyffe's spent the afternoon hopping up and down in his front garden complaining. He reckons he can't sleep without all that creaking and bashing going on. Well, he should thought of things like that before he took all that money off us.
I've recommended there's a little manor house in Bedfordshire that might be worth putting in a bid for - I remember that my family had a little monetary problem back in the mid-19th century, caused by my great-great-great-great grand-dad Reuben's habit of betting on moth racing. But they seem determined to stay round here regardless.
Meantime I've suggested to Capt Aldclyffe that the chinking sound that gold makes may soothe him to sleep at night. Certainly it seemed to inspire his daughter, Cynthia, or whatever it was she said her name was.
Labels: Hardy People