2110-1-2-1

Brasenose College Oxford.

Feb: 19: 96

My dear Mother

I got Anna's and your letter this morning. I am very sorry I forgot to thank you for the currant-loaf. I remembered as soon as I had posted the last letter. I thought of writing again and then I thought I had better wait till now. Many thanks for it. I regret to say it is already eaten.

I should also have sent something for Willie's birthday, but it went entirely out of my head. I will get something today for him. I am quite well today, and on the whole my health is

quite decent this term. The only thing is that I am troubled with occasional violent attacks of toothache which keep me from sleeping. I have heard nothing yet from Robertson Nicoll. Allah twist his moustache! I have two more sets of proofs of Scholar-Gipsies from John Lane; it is now almost all in type. Poor Anna seems to have been having difficulties with those incorrigible books. It is very good of her to write so often and regularly. I will write to her next time.

I am afraid I can't think of any titles for novels. Titles are always the things I shipwreck on. I send you the G. U. M. [Glasgow University Magazine] with my review of C. D.'s [Charlie Dick's] Walton. I had a letter from him yesterday. He seems to be working quite hard.

On Saturday I went to hear the Professor of Poetry's inaugural lecture. I

was very cross. He simply plagiarised all I had said in Nonconformity in Literature and all I am going to say in Modern Criticism. This latter essay is nearly finished. It is to be read next week.

On Sabbath there was nobody of any importance preaching in Mansfield [College], so I walked out with Taffy to Dorchester to church. The country was looking very fine and spring-like. There was some detestable incense in the place which got into my nose and made me cough: otherwise it was very fine. Yesterday I had a splendid expedition in the afternoon up the Thames to a tributary stream called the Evenlode. It was about 10 miles altogether.

This is the first day of Lent, and all the prize idiots here are making a pretence of fasting. Taffy is going to give up meat lunches and smoking. Last night was Shrove Tuesday, and at dinner they gave us

pancakes. Today I was ill-advised enough to go to chapel, and found a service of nearly twice its proper length in honour of Ash Wednesday.

I do not need any money, thank you. I will manage comfortably till the end of term, which is about 4 weeks. I collected £1 for Professor Veitch, which I have dispatched to Glasgow. I am getting on by degrees with J. B. of B. That type-writer is hanging over my head. How on earth I am to buy it without the money from that wretched B. W. [British Weekly] I don't know.

Love to all. Father, Yourself , Anna, Willie, Ervie [nickname for Walter], & the valiant Peter [Alastair].

Your affectionate son John Buchan