You do not currently have permission to view the full text for this document. Please sign in to an account with an active subscription or contact support.
Bad writing is as bad as mumbling instead of talking because it looks as if you expected others to read what you can't be bothered to write. Or listen to what you can't be bothered to say.
There are still baby ducks, geese and coots in the Park. I've tried to
draw some coots.1,2 Of course I am not sure but I think coots do have long names because their family name – coot – is so terribly short and it must be very disappointing to have a short name like ‘coot’. Before you know anyone has spoken to you it's all over so to speak.
Last night Mummy and I went to see Perry, or Perry thought so and was glad to see us and about fifty other people who had come to see him. He received the guests from under the table and then went round and spoke to each one separately. Ticklee-tum, ticklee-tum he said as he graciously rolled over on to his back. I am sorry
I cannot show his tail wagging properly but it goes too fast. He is smiling because Mummy was the first to understand what he meant by Ticklee-tum.
P.S. I don't know why your Daddy has forgotten to send you my ticklee-tums too. You remember? – I am the dear little doggie whom everyone thinks so SWEET – which I was and still am. I allow the Sandlers to look after me. In Circus Road. And you promised to take me for a walk. I am a Jack Russell Terrier. THE Jack Russell Terrier. Hoping your Headmistress Tickles your Turn too. Just lie on your back and stick your paws in the air like I do and I'm sure she will make you top of the school.