It was a very hot afternoon, and we were unhappy. The matter of the accounts was not the only shadow which hung over us. John had a fox terrier--so had I; but whereas my dog was a Little Englander, and stayed at home, John's was an Imperialist, who roamed the country. He had disappeared again the night before, and had been observed in the morning in a village three miles away. Thither toiled John in search of him that hot afternoon, his heart torn between his love for his dog and his duty to his parents. And Rags and I remained at home to see what we could make of finance. We made but little of it. The more I thought of it, the more impossible it seemed to say that every penny (no more, no less) of the five pounds had been spent properly. One idea I had which touched genius--namely, to furnish an account for five pounds ten (say) and point out that the balance was owing to us. Ours was always a great family for ideas. But you see the weak spot, Charles--that we hadn't demanded the ten shillings long ago. And then John returned. No, he had not found his dog, but he had found a shilling in the road. He had spent (he simply had to spend, he said) a penny ha'penny on refreshment, but the tenpence ha'penny he had brought back joyfully. And in the evening a beautiful account (on the double-entry system) and tenpence ha'penny balance were handed over with ceremony. So much for finance, Charles. Now I've got some news for you. _I've just had a nephew_! (Uncle doing well.) Did you know? Look here, we'll arrange a sporting match between him and your son over hurdles for 1922. Your boy will still be a year older, but, bless you, I don't mind that. My nephew is so ugly at present that I feel he must be intended for the highest honours at something. Probably hurdles. Of course if either of us perishes in the meantime the nominations become void. ("The nominations become void"--did you notice that? Quite the sportsman.) What sort of weather are you having? I ask because the weather differs according to the locality, and down at Castle Bumpbrook it may be quite fine, while it is raining here, and _vice versa_. Why is this? Why shouldn't the weather be the same everywhere? Something to do with the solstices, I believe. What is a solstice? (I have asked you no end of questions in this letter, and I don't suppose you will answer one of them.)