It is with sincere regret that we record the indisposition of that leader
of our local social life, Miss Merle Ramsay. Well known for her dramatic
talent, she lately acted the part of principal boy at an important
performance held in Chagmouth, the Metropolis of the West. Her audience,
which included some of the most celebrated critics and press
representatives of the neighbourhood, was unanimous in acknowledging her
spirited conception of what was certainly a difficult and delicate role,
which, in less skilled hands than hers, might have degenerated into
buffoonery or sheer melodrama. She was greatly to be congratulated on her
achievement, and it is hoped this is not the last time she will appear on
the boards and give Devon audiences the opportunity of enjoying her rare
humour. It may be noted that, in addition to her powers of dramatic
representation, Miss Ramsay has no mean record in the world of sport.
Her athletic proclivities are marked, and she has the distinguished
honour of being president of the Games Club at that great west country
centre of education 'The Moorings.' Among her many activities Miss Ramsay
numbers a facility in music and an affection for horticulture; she has
travelled much in the immediate neighbourhood of Durracombe, and her
favourite hobby is motoring.
Miss Ramsay, who through the nature of her indisposition was unable to
afford our press representative a personal interview, sent messages of
thanks for the local sympathy expressed for her condition.
"It is a matter of much gratification to me to know that I am missed,"
were her words; "I trust soon to be back at work and to be able to fulfil
my many engagements." At the request of the local Entertainments
Committee we are asked to state that, owing to the absence of their most
prominent member, no further performances will be given for the present.
We wish Miss Ramsay a speedy return to health.
Merle laughed very much over these literary effusions, and they certainly
had the effect of cheering her up. What she pined for chiefly, however,
was company. She had a very sociable disposition and hated to be alone.
She particularly missed Clive, who had grown to be her best playfellow.
She begged for the dog or the cat to share her solitude, but that was
strictly forbidden on the ground that they might be germ-carriers and
convey the mumps to others. One day she was sitting at her table trying
to amuse herself with an everlasting game of patience, when she suddenly
heard peculiar noises on the roof above. There was a scraping and
bumping, as if an eagle or some other enormous bird had alighted there.
The sounds continued till at last there was a thump on the skylight and
Clive's mischievous face appeared grinning down at her. Immensely
thrilled she lifted the window, and he crawled farther along and thrust
his head through.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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