What Ho Proles!
My, how you’ve aged! You’re all looking a lot older since I last saw you. A bit pale too. Been enjoying this fine English summer? It’s not stopped raining here at C–– N––. I’ve been cooped up here in Murgatroid Central, suffering a prolish insurrection, of all things. We crushed it, of course, with some heavily artillery and some light skirmishes involving the Murgatroid Light Huzzars. But the things with proles if that you can’t take your eye off them for a moment without their believing they’re free to do what they choose with whosoever they choose.
Beyond that, there’s very little to tell. Mary, the Hall’s house maid, recently found herself ‘with child’, as they say. Suspicion duly fell on the village’s red headed population, if you see what I’m saying, though a father has yet to step forth and receive his lashing.
You might be wondering about The Honourable J.P.M… Well, my memoirs are now complete and stand at a rather healthy 90,000 words. They will be in your local library at some point in time and I expect you all to demand extra copies, including versions for the blind, the deaf, and for the terminally liberal (they come with cloth covers and untearable pages).
I just wanted to pop in and give you the QT. And with that, I wish you good day.
Keep on with whatever you’ve been doing while I’ve been away. I’m sure you’re doing a somewhat adequate job.