“My dear Ned, How are you, dear? I hope you keep all right. My corf is now pretty middlin otherwise nothin to complain of. Now dear I have to tell you something which grieves me dear. Im afraid its no good keepin it from you ony longer dear. _Ettie is walkin out with another feller._ A feller from the air station called Alf Mullet. I taxed her with it and she says yes it is so dear. Now dear you mustnt take on about this. I told her off I says it was a disgraceful and you out there fightin for your country and that. And she says nothin excep yes there it was and she couldn’t help it and her feelins had been changed you being away and that. Now dear you must put a good face on this and remember theres just as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it as they say dear. One of Mr. Bean’s rabits died Sunday they think it overeating you never know with rabits. Keep your feet warm dear I hope you got them socks I sent. Lizzie was at chapel Sunday she had on her green lawn looked very nice I thought but I wish she wouldn’t get them spots on her face perhaps its only the time of year. Toffee is all right he had a fight with a hairdale Thursday Henry says got one of his eres bitten but nothin serous. So now dear I must close as Mrs. Minchin wants me to go and take tea with her has Florrie has gone to the school treat at Eurley. And so dear with love your lovin Mother.” When he had finished reading this letter he uttered an exclamation, and a cockney friend sitting on the ground by his side remarked: “What’s the matter, mate?” Ned took a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and lighted one. Then he said: “My girl’s jilted me.” The cockney laughed and said: “Gawd! is that all? I thought it was somthin’ serious!” He was cleaning his rifle with an oil rag, and he continued: “Don’t you worry, mate. Women are like those blinkin’ little Greek islands, places to call at but not to stay. What was she like?” “Oo—all right.” “Pretty?” “Ay—middlin’.” “’As she got another feller?” “Ay.” “Oh, well, it’s all in the gime. If you _will_ go gallivanting about these foreign parts enjoyin’ yerself, what d’yer expect? What time’s kick off this afternoon?” “Two o’clock.” “Reckon we’re goin’ to win?” “I doan’t know. ’Pends upon whether McFarlane turns out.” “Yus, ’e’s a wonderful player. Keeps the team together like.” “Ay.” “Are you playin’?” “Ay. I’m playin’ right half.” “Are yer? Well, you’ll ’ave yer ’ands full. You’ll ’ave to tackle Curly Snider.” “Ay.” Ned’s team won the match that afternoon, and he wrote to his mother afterwards: