The Guv’nor reflects…
In my serious drinking days (it being a young man’s sport, those days are gone) I lost a lot of hats and umbrellas, but never a briefcase. I always hung on to my case in taxis, bars and cafés. In restaurants, one could always go back the next day.
The hats I never lost were my top hat and my bowler. I suppose I didn’t get smashed on formal occasions. So perhaps the stories of my misspent youth are not completely true… well not really.
Mind you there was that very grand charity lunch where I was the guest of honour, and the Lord Mayor got quite upset. Oh, and that very formal dinner in Hollywood (our American cousins get shocked very easily). But I wasn’t wearing a topper or a bowler at either of those do’s. You see I should have done then I would have behaved myself and wouldn’t have upset so many people. It would have been taken as eccentricity – the English are seen as eccentrics, so it wouldn’t have mattered. One just doesn’t realize these things when one is younger.
That is all.
The Man From The Hornet adds: Our picture shows a forlorn sight: a lost titfer in the window of the Lost Property Office in Baker Street, handed in in 1961.