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Good evening Bobby. Did you remember to turn in your characters school books from last semester in the U.K? Long distance being what it is these days, I suppose, for a Oxford Man like yourself time is of the essence; and further stated in your travels abroad, less than "matter of fact". Why, just the other day, playing a game with the magistrate, yes (I believe it was a fancy game of chess) my old friend Rasputin laughed at the remebrances. Heavy eye liner and egg shells was his exclamation. Here in the nether worlds of your dreams, villians come and go like little passages on the sea of time. Piano concertos and Bahroke symphonies are wired through the mini-series of sound and the fortunes of guided voices and early morning gatherings at the rectories and chapels of the new centuries crumbling churches. My old bones don't quite keep pace with the wishes of my youth; although, every once in a while my fingers find the correct release from "that which my tounge knoweth not", my eyes still remain dim. Be kind to your Aunt Forrester when you visit her the winter, and remember to say good evening to Mr.Chratchets goose for me on the way home. Time being what is is these cold fall nights, fog will be banking in from the south and to the west, as the sound of the lonesome trains whistle ride through dusk as the early rising clack clack clack of pre-dawn movement backs down the south again. War is just around the corner Bobby. Remind yourself that when your hear the phrase, "feast or famine". Until we meet again, U.C. =