Lost

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 Guv’nor.

 

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.

 

 

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