May to David Beckenham. 22. 2. 18.
My dear David,
This is letter No. 82 I believe.
Wednesday evening I finished knitting the body of the woolly coat, and now I only have the collar to do, buttons to make, and sewing, together, and then it is done! And I shall be ready to start my next piece of work.
Wednesday evening I said to Mama “I think the damp has got in my throat”. (It was pouring with rain). I believe she had the feeling for fussing over someone, so said to me “Don’t get up tomorrow morning til I come in to you”. She sleeps with Ethel and me alternately. To please her I said “Alright”. Soon after 7.0 next morning in she came and asked me how it was. I could see she wanted to fuss me up, knowing the symptoms myself, so I said “it feels as though I have a cold in it. One of my girls has a bad cold cold; guess I have taken it from her, and it will spread all over me in time.” She seemed quite pleased at the prospect of having a case, and said “You had better stay in bed to-day and I will bring up your meals”. Now I didn’t bargain for that, and I have been to the office with really bad colds before now, aching all over, so it did seem ridiculous to stay at home because my voice sounded a bit thick. However, she looked so pleading, and I remembered there was a day owing me, that I agreed, sending a message by Ern that I was having that day off. Well, I did enjoy myself. Instead of fussing up-my companion, I let my companion fuss me up all day long, at least until after teatime, when I felt I could not act the humbug any longer. Really, I have got a slight cold in my head, and staying in bed and keeping hot (I was fearfully hot) might have prevented a cough. I was boasting one day this week that I had not had a cold or cough the whole of this winter, nor last autumn either, I believe the first autumn and winter on record. Working hard suits me evidently. The rest was nice yesterday, but I must make up for lost time now.
Last evening a letter came from Mrs Taylor. She is down at Watford, having heard that Mrs Capel is not so well. I guess she is thoroughly enjoying fussing up Mrs Capel the same as Mama enjoyed fussing over me. Mama wanted me to stay at home to-day, but my conscience would not let me, but I compromised matters by saying perhaps I would leave at 4.30.
Now, don’t imagine I am bad. I have told you that whole facts of the case, as I promised to let you know everything. I only wish you would let me know how bad you are at times. You don’t, you know. Perhaps you have been bad again, and that is why I am not hearing from you. Here come the salaries, so I must say goodbye. May
P.S. If fine to-morrow I hope to do some gardening.