While normally I trust I may pride myself upon a sanguine and forgiving temperament, I must confess that a recent correspondence from Mr H of Twickenham, has left me with an unexpected difficulty that I cannot satisfactorily resolve.
Category: The passage of time
My fellows at the Tatler’s Waste-bin have asked me to make this fourth be our final resumé of progress in the study of the work of Capability Brown during 2016, his tercentennial, his triumphal year. They fear lest we show too great a partiality for Dr Sarah Rutherford’s work. Here then is a further miscellany of observations largely gleaned from her text.
There are none quicker to anger than Staffordshire folk. It may be their dogs and it has been put to me that the time they and their ancestors have spent firing clay, dull and dumb, in their bottle kilns has taught them that only the fire of extreme anger can bring forth the civilised charm of Wedgwood china – or maybe it is spending too much time with the bottle alone that does it.