Round The Hospital

September 1916

By Mr. Quossip

Newly back from Strafland, Cpl. Cheeribloke met me while I was taking my promenade down A. corridor. The Corporal, attired in natty blue (blue is the wear, you know!), was propelling his own landaulet - the latest craze in conveyances. "I'm teaching it to waltz" was his little jest as he butted backwards into a competitive vehicle which had rashly attempted to pass him at the tricky bit of road between Kitchen Corner and The Ramp.

Sister Summery, all smiles as usual, has confided in me that her present guests at the Lads. When I add that 'the Lads' unanimously testify that Sister Summery is It, you will grasp the full significance of this Pointed Par.

Anna Maria Twentystun (of course, it is the Dowager I am alluding to) whose residence in Garratt Lane is the scene of many a social success, has left D27.The good wishes of all go with her, and the younger of our Blades in Blue may well envy the lucky suitor who is leading so ponderous a parti to the altar.

The sweet likeness of little Dolly Dimpledean (late of Daly's) has come to hand today. Dolly, it seems, is toiling like a galley slave for the wounded - or will be when our hard-hearted Matron can be persuaded to give her a berth. Meanwhile, in spite of rebuffs which would have damped the zeal of one less courageous, the Adored of the Stalls has been tiring her poor wee self to tatters by being photo'ed in her Red Cross Uniform.

At supper in the Orderlies' Canteen last night I found myself next to Pte. Long-i'-t'hair, whose ancestral home, Hut 6, is so beautifully situated at the edge of the valley of the Ellbeesceear. His was work he told me is keeping him very busy; several times this year he has had to deny his usual weekend. However (as he himself added, with his usual cheery smile), "War is Hell."

Mrs. Quossip informs me that 'Tumbler Teas' are now much in vogue in V.A.D. circles - owing no doubt to the best china being stowed away in the cellar, safe from the marauding Zepp. The correct procedure at these affairs is to invite your guests, mentioning at the same time that you've nothing to offer for tea(if wise, they'll bring their own), and then raid your neighbours' rooms for crockery.
At the particular party mentioned by Mrs. Quossip the net result of these surprising manoeuvres was two cups, two toothbrush jars, and a tooth glass. A good dentifrice is a real necessity, it appears, as a cheaper one spoils instead of adds to the flavour of the tea. The time-honoured toothbrush and penholder deputised for spoons, and the chocolate biscuits, so dear to the feminine heart, were served in the soap-dish. quite a recherché affair, it seems.