Dearest Mother,
I do hope that this reaches you in good spirits. As I write, our boat is approaching what looks like a charming little fishing village, at which I suspect we are to spend the night. I’m certain you will be pleased to hear that I am in the best of health, not least because of charming little occurrence which came to pass the night before last.
As many of us are travelling on our own, the captain organised a delightful little game designed to encourage a little light socialising amongst the passengers travelling without a companion. The game was as follows; The Captain, a charming little fellow by the name of Hoffmann, assigned a marble counter to each of the 26 guests whom he had invited: the first 13 to the gentlemen and the second 13 to the ladies. As you may well have guessed, each of the counters was inscribed with a different letter of the alphabet, meaning that the men lettered A-M, and the women N-Z. The captain then put the two sets of counters into two velvet pouches, gave them each a good long shake (no foul play from a man like Hoffmann, I can assure you) and proceeded to draw the counters out in pairs, calling them out as he went along; ‘E and T’, or ‘A and O’ and so on. Us gentlemen were then to search out our opposite number (or should I say letter!) and spend a little while engaging in conversation. I must admit, I did not have the best of luck to begin with, ending up with a very dour Peruvian widower by the name of Copolería, and an excitable young lady from Wells, who simply could not stop talking about the giant eggplants she had seen in Lima. I was just beginning to lament the loss of an evening I could have spent tucked up with my journal, when the captain announced that I had been paired with the owner of the N counter.
I had been ready to take my leave, but with this I resolved to stay for one more round, as the lady behind the counter N could hardly be worse that old Signora Copollera! And indeed how right I was! The Captain introduced her as a certain Signora Spalanzani; she was very dark in complexion, with big brown eyes and short, somewhat thin, black hair, as is the style in Paris, so Captain Hoffmann informed me.
Never have I met such a pleasant, meek and good natured young lady in my entire life, dearest Mother! I talked to her long into the night, up there on the deck as the full moon cast a silver shadow across her devilishly rugged features. She spoke very little, if at all, but the sheer passionate power of her gaze into my eyes said more than mere words ever could. I bade her a good night as the sun neared the horizon, and returned to my cabin in a fit of excitement.
I have not slept a wink since then, and can scarcely wait to see her again tonight on the deck once more.
Your ever loving son,
Nathanael
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dearest Mother,
How can I describe all that has happened since last I wrote! Dare I say it, I have fallen deeply and desperately in love!
Never have I met anyone who understands me as entirely and completely as young Signora Spalanzani. Never have I met anyone so interested in, indeed fascinated by my musings and innermost thoughts, that I fear would bore even you, dearest Mother. I can talk to her for hours, out there on the deck, of my hopes, my fears, my ideas and my dreams, and she listens all the while with her entrancing eyes fixed on me. I can’t help but believe that Fate herself brought us together on ‘The Night of the N Counter’, as I like to call it! She says little, if anything, but she needn’t; our love is far deeper than mere sweet nothings, right to the very depths of my soul.
It is true that she is not an enormously popular figure amongst the other passengers, I daresay they are jealous of our love, indeed, jealous of my having enchanted such a beautiful, timid young woman as she.
Dearest Mother, how I wish I could see your face you read this! I intend to ask for her hand the day after tomorrow; you surely will love the Daughter-in-Law for whom you have always wished just as deeply as I do!
Your ever loving son,
Nathanael
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dearest Mother,
I can hardly think of the events of the last few days without a tear coming to my eye. But write of the events that came to pass I must.
As intended, I spent the last of my savings on a beautiful engagement band for young Signora Spalanzani, and then told her of my love, and of my intention of marrying her that very night. Needless to day, I could see in the tenderness of her gaze that she accepted my proposal. I took her in my arms in a passionate embrace, I walked her to my cabin, barely able to force breath into my lungs under the sheer weight of excitement.
Once in my cabin I took her in my arms and breathed sweet nothings into her ear as I undid the clasps on the back of her customary blue ballgown. I let the dress fall to the floor and took a step back in order to observe the naked form that I had so often dreamed of.
You can more than imagine my surprise when I stepped back to see not the naked body of Signora Spalanzani, but a monkey balanced on top of a monkey balanced on top of a monkey; yes indeed, a tower of monkeys; a monkey sat on the shoulders of another monkey, sat on the shoulders of another monkey. In a flash, all the suspicions that I had managed to ignore fell into place in a moment of heartbreaking clarity, and I finally understood why Signora Spalanzani’s table manners had been so crude in comparison to the rest of her demeanour; a fact that I had turned a blind eye to up until that point.
The monkey on top of a monkey on top of a monkey swayed a little, each one blinking slowly with a look of deep confusion, until, presumably on account its of no longer being balanced by the ballast weight of the ball gown, the monkey on top of a monkey on top of a monkey staggered and then toppled towards me.
I recall nothing more of that night; the next thing I remember was waking up in the Captain’s quarters in a deep fever, from which I have only just recovered. Everyone seems deeply concerned for my welfare, although I am doing my best to explain to them that it was a simple misunderstanding. As for Signora Spalanzani, everyone assures me that that there has been found no trace of her since.
Your ever loving son,
Nathanael
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nat, please pick up your phone. We’re getting worried about you, no one says they’ve seen you since Bógota, where are you? Please just call us and tell us you’re okay. Mum.
I do hope that this reaches you in good spirits. As I write, our boat is approaching what looks like a charming little fishing village, at which I suspect we are to spend the night. I’m certain you will be pleased to hear that I am in the best of health, not least because of charming little occurrence which came to pass the night before last.
As many of us are travelling on our own, the captain organised a delightful little game designed to encourage a little light socialising amongst the passengers travelling without a companion. The game was as follows; The Captain, a charming little fellow by the name of Hoffmann, assigned a marble counter to each of the 26 guests whom he had invited: the first 13 to the gentlemen and the second 13 to the ladies. As you may well have guessed, each of the counters was inscribed with a different letter of the alphabet, meaning that the men lettered A-M, and the women N-Z. The captain then put the two sets of counters into two velvet pouches, gave them each a good long shake (no foul play from a man like Hoffmann, I can assure you) and proceeded to draw the counters out in pairs, calling them out as he went along; ‘E and T’, or ‘A and O’ and so on. Us gentlemen were then to search out our opposite number (or should I say letter!) and spend a little while engaging in conversation. I must admit, I did not have the best of luck to begin with, ending up with a very dour Peruvian widower by the name of Copolería, and an excitable young lady from Wells, who simply could not stop talking about the giant eggplants she had seen in Lima. I was just beginning to lament the loss of an evening I could have spent tucked up with my journal, when the captain announced that I had been paired with the owner of the N counter.
I had been ready to take my leave, but with this I resolved to stay for one more round, as the lady behind the counter N could hardly be worse that old Signora Copollera! And indeed how right I was! The Captain introduced her as a certain Signora Spalanzani; she was very dark in complexion, with big brown eyes and short, somewhat thin, black hair, as is the style in Paris, so Captain Hoffmann informed me.
Never have I met such a pleasant, meek and good natured young lady in my entire life, dearest Mother! I talked to her long into the night, up there on the deck as the full moon cast a silver shadow across her devilishly rugged features. She spoke very little, if at all, but the sheer passionate power of her gaze into my eyes said more than mere words ever could. I bade her a good night as the sun neared the horizon, and returned to my cabin in a fit of excitement.
I have not slept a wink since then, and can scarcely wait to see her again tonight on the deck once more.
Your ever loving son,
Nathanael
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dearest Mother,
How can I describe all that has happened since last I wrote! Dare I say it, I have fallen deeply and desperately in love!
Never have I met anyone who understands me as entirely and completely as young Signora Spalanzani. Never have I met anyone so interested in, indeed fascinated by my musings and innermost thoughts, that I fear would bore even you, dearest Mother. I can talk to her for hours, out there on the deck, of my hopes, my fears, my ideas and my dreams, and she listens all the while with her entrancing eyes fixed on me. I can’t help but believe that Fate herself brought us together on ‘The Night of the N Counter’, as I like to call it! She says little, if anything, but she needn’t; our love is far deeper than mere sweet nothings, right to the very depths of my soul.
It is true that she is not an enormously popular figure amongst the other passengers, I daresay they are jealous of our love, indeed, jealous of my having enchanted such a beautiful, timid young woman as she.
Dearest Mother, how I wish I could see your face you read this! I intend to ask for her hand the day after tomorrow; you surely will love the Daughter-in-Law for whom you have always wished just as deeply as I do!
Your ever loving son,
Nathanael
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dearest Mother,
I can hardly think of the events of the last few days without a tear coming to my eye. But write of the events that came to pass I must.
As intended, I spent the last of my savings on a beautiful engagement band for young Signora Spalanzani, and then told her of my love, and of my intention of marrying her that very night. Needless to day, I could see in the tenderness of her gaze that she accepted my proposal. I took her in my arms in a passionate embrace, I walked her to my cabin, barely able to force breath into my lungs under the sheer weight of excitement.
Once in my cabin I took her in my arms and breathed sweet nothings into her ear as I undid the clasps on the back of her customary blue ballgown. I let the dress fall to the floor and took a step back in order to observe the naked form that I had so often dreamed of.
You can more than imagine my surprise when I stepped back to see not the naked body of Signora Spalanzani, but a monkey balanced on top of a monkey balanced on top of a monkey; yes indeed, a tower of monkeys; a monkey sat on the shoulders of another monkey, sat on the shoulders of another monkey. In a flash, all the suspicions that I had managed to ignore fell into place in a moment of heartbreaking clarity, and I finally understood why Signora Spalanzani’s table manners had been so crude in comparison to the rest of her demeanour; a fact that I had turned a blind eye to up until that point.
The monkey on top of a monkey on top of a monkey swayed a little, each one blinking slowly with a look of deep confusion, until, presumably on account its of no longer being balanced by the ballast weight of the ball gown, the monkey on top of a monkey on top of a monkey staggered and then toppled towards me.
I recall nothing more of that night; the next thing I remember was waking up in the Captain’s quarters in a deep fever, from which I have only just recovered. Everyone seems deeply concerned for my welfare, although I am doing my best to explain to them that it was a simple misunderstanding. As for Signora Spalanzani, everyone assures me that that there has been found no trace of her since.
Your ever loving son,
Nathanael
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nat, please pick up your phone. We’re getting worried about you, no one says they’ve seen you since Bógota, where are you? Please just call us and tell us you’re okay. Mum.