December 23rd 1935.
All the Christmas parcels were in the post, so what was there to stop us from making merry in the really old fashioned way in England – at the expense of some one else’s labour!
Nice to think we could get up Christmas morning in leisurely mood, pry into “stockings” and eat a real Christmas Dinner… cooked by strange hands and not think about the washing up. – or what to do with the rest of the Turkey!
Still there was Rushden and presents for five cats and various humans!
To Rushden we journeyed heavily laden with crackling parcels and with cheerful hearts.
The parcels delivered – the cats having duly received Christmas kisses and extra rations of cod, we prepared for a journey south – destination unknown – But there must be, we were quite certain – a shining blazing hearth – holly and mistletoe, Turkey and plum pudding, and just us in a Dickens Inn. – We dismissed, – we would do without the coach and four steaming horses and a rubicund coachman!
No that was asking too much! . . . . , – we might just dream that bit of it, … after the port! – – –
Halfway up to London we ran into Fog. – the thickest densest Fog that can only be found in England. – We were nearly three hours on the way — !
Now this fact raised a problem and further enquiries about the road south disclosed the information we dreaded – More Fog – Cars left by the road, in ditches —–
‘I’m staying in Town’ said Jumbo – ‘Anyway for to-night!’
Now Logan Studios was enveloped in dustsheets — we hadn’t the heart to go back.
The ever resourceful Jumbo came to the rescue once more —
‘I’m going to Jules’ said he. – To Jules we went.
We had a large comfortable room, – a fire – hot baths – dinner — and went to bed
And this is the Prologue!
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