There are possibilities of social regeneration in it, too. Certain horrible imperfections—due to haste and false economy and a want of thoroughness—are allowed year after year to persist, to the serious impairing of the nation’s nerves, which might be removed, or at any rate reduced in number, if some warm-hearted living hand, like yours now, or wise dead hand, like yours in the distant future, were outstretched. For example, a legacy of a thousand pounds would not be thrown away if the interest on it were offered every year as a prize to the maker of chests-of-drawers which would open most easily, or the maker of looking-glasses which remained at the desired angle without having to be wedged. The details would have to be worked out, perhaps through some furniture trade paper, but what a heightening of effort and what a saving of temper might result! And if a prize were offered to the firm of haberdashers whose buttons were most securely sewn on, what a wave of comfort might be started! I bought some soft collars at a first-class shop only last week and the buttons were all loose and some of the button-holes were too small; and it was I who suffered, not the haberdasher. All he did was to spread his hands and complain about post-war carelessness; whereas he might just as well have supervised the things before they were sent home as not. One of the most infuriating things in Peace-time is the impossibility of punishing anybody—except oneself. The world is so prosperous that one can’t touch it. Once one could set a tradesman’s knees shaking by merely expressing the intention of going elsewhere in future; but it is so no longer. But this is dull reading for Herefordshire. Are not these lines on the toilet table of Marie Antoinette poignant?— This was her table, these her trim outspread Brushes and trays and porcelain cups for red; Here sate she, while her women tired and curled The most unhappy head in all the world. R. H. LXXVIII VINCENT FRANK TO JOSEY RABY DARLING JOSEY,—I hated having to telegraph, but there was nothing else to do.