Written by Erskin Quint

Thursday, 3 June 2010

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Dear Madam (if indeed it is so),
as a Welshman, it is with regret that I note that your esteemed publication fails to boast a section in the Welsh tongue. Could you perhaps consider the insertion of some Welsh tongue within your excellent parts? Failing that, perchance a translation of the whole or indeed again a subdivision thereof, notwithstanding the inevitable adulteration consequent to such dividings? Many readerships might enjoy inserted Welsh tongue!

Yours etc,
Yestynn Prytherch Esq., Pontyffarlliansyylianddrodd Wells.

Dear Sir,
do you or your readers know of any shops selling small shoes for the likes of dwarf mules or little horses smaller than a Shetland? I don't know what breed it is. It was a present from a Corsican sailor who stayed at my lodging-house for a week and left without a forwarding address. It is trained to stamp its hoofs to "La Marseillaise". Ferdinand, he called hisself, the sailor that is, the mini-horse is named Jubbles. I can tell you it has one white ear and one brown, and is mottled, but little else, I wouldn't know where to look as regards fetlocks etc. His hoofs are looking worn down. It must have been the journey from Corsica, across the vineyards of Dalmatia.

Mrs Violet Posterior, "The Shrivings", Bexhill-on-Sea.

Dear Sirs,
I should like to write in protest at these so-called "fruit corners" yogurts you can buy now. What on earth is a "fruit corner"? Whatever next? Will they start calling tinned peaches "peach cylinders", or refer to a doughnut as a "dough torus"? Of course, strictly speaking, it is not a "fruit corner" at all, more of a triangle (and that is only thinking in two dimensions!). And why is "yogurt" spelled so many ways? Don't you see how ludicrous all this is?

Sincerely,
Ken Yardstick, Faffington-with-Cholmondleybridge.

Sirs,
while we are on the vexed subject of favourite singers, personally, I can't decide between Matt King Kong Cole and Nat Marilyn Monroe. My pal Sonny Blackpool is a skiffle fan and he says he likes Lonnie Donegan's version of "The Moonlight Sonata", a very difficult tune to do on the washboard. I'm no expert but I can see where's he's coming from. I only wish he'd go back there. Only joking Sonny! He's a tower of strength is Sonny Blackpool, a real rock!

regards,
Pete Cutter, Pilling.

Dear Sir,
Can you settle an argument I had 15 years ago in a pub about the Pope? This woman who was selling whelks said that he sleeps in the nude, but I disagree. I can't see them allowing his body to soil the sanctified Vatican sheets. I mean, nuns aren't allowed to have a bath unless wearing a special shift of coarse linen, which they then remove behind an embroidered screen. If they violate this, they are flogged naked before the Abbess. I often think about this. Very often. Surely even his Holiness must submit to these rigorous strictures. I should like to correspond with anybody who also has similar concerns. Preferably females.

Yours faithfully,
Cliff Hanger, Eccles.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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