Soaring Ambitions of Col. Trevelyan Makeshift-Hampton

Soaring Ambitions of Col. Trevelyan Makeshift-Hampton

Day 53     Gauging from the last time I surveyed the stars before I broke my sextant, today is possibly St. Patrick’s day.  Mulligan, the Irishman, seems unusually taciturn and morose today for whatever reason. The most pressing worry I have is that Severance may be losing his mind.  He has been putting lima beans in his service revolver and taking pot shots at the summit.  Clayshaw has also been acting a little strangely and has begun to take milk instead of lemon in his tea – we are reduced to Ceylon.  It is very distressing.  I have seen that before in the Congo – first it is milk instead of lemon, then they start taking their whiskey without soda and next thing you know they are running around stark naked with a missionary’s head on a stick.  I find myself recalling my first summer in Dorset after Father had gone to India and mother was locked in the conservatory drinking raw quinine…[The rest of the page would appear to have been chewed away by a rodent or a member of the servant classes. Ed]

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