Lord William Daft

Squire Porter and his Ladies visited the country pile this weekend and brought with them their cider infused, ruddy complexions from the countryside.

As I may have mentioned some months ago, I have purchased the very latest Penny Farthing and it was with great delight when the Porters suggested that we go on a bicycling jaunt to see how many peasants we can run over on the tow path.

Well, the going was slow during the first half of our sojourn. Those pesky peasants were far too quick for us and managed to evade us. I turned to the Squire and suggested that a liquid lunch may be in order. He readily agreed and so we found a rather modern looking establishment staffed by those coarse colonials from Down Under.

Jugs of Pimms were the order of the day, in a vain effort to cool down. My top hat and tails may have made me look very dapper atop my grand bycicle, however, it rather made me glow.

It was good to see The Squire sup his Pimms with all the aplomb and the haste of a yeokel drinking a flagon of cider after a morning harvesting the hay.

After luncheon we felt suitably refreshed and a little giddy. We were ready for our challenge and by jove did we succeed. Fuelled by Pimms and an inability to focus on any single living object, we managed to displace parasols owned by the petit borgeoisie as they took their Sunday strolls, knock peasants into trees and push anglers into the canal as we cycled past at break neck speed.

News reaches me that Austin may be turfed out of the Kodswallop Club. This is the very same club that blackballed me a year ago for my unfettered indolence.

The market traders who have stormed the commitee had the temerity to request that I pull my weight and contribute something. I accused them of having to buy their own furniture which they did not take too kindly and so they began a campaign for my removal along with Flasher McFungus, Baron Scmidt and Lady Alexpanda. It is my understanding that the club is a dull and dreary place since our departures.

Of course, The Kodswallop Club has been going downhill for a number of years. When us chaps first joined it was filled with Men of Consequence. The types who would lead the Empire to greater things. This is no longer the case.

It has become a haven of chaps who did not have the benefit of being flogged at Public School and have the unfortunate handicap of having local accents. So I therefore urge Austin to take his leave of the ne’er do wells and become a man of consequence once again.