Today again. Why must this cursed day exist? And yet, every Tomorrow becomes Today again. At least Yesterday is behind me.
Greetings all. I have not written for quite a time, it's true. My Todays have been filled with summer doings, such as croquet, taking tea on the lawn, and enjoying the company of my closest friends. Only the most elegant summers are spent playing croquet. I suppose you're going to tell me you don't know how to play. Well that is very easily cured; I myself will tell you the basic skills required for the game. I happen to be a master of the game myself, and only that of Alice's equals my brilliance. (And she is a master of Bridge, not croquet.) You will need a strong voice, a fiery will and determination (never underestimate the challenges involved) and a lot of patience. I, of course, have plenty.
Well, do you understand yet?
No? Well, I am moving on nevertheless. This game involves a stick thing. (I'm sorry to say I never quite learned the vocabulary-but sports are all about the sport!) And by the way all that nonsense about using flamingos or other strange birds as sticks is false. However, the part about the hedgehogs as balls is quite true. Not cruelty, as one might infer from the facts, but paid work. The hedgehog is a lovely, amiable creature; always volunteering to help out whenever there's a game going on. The wages are quite high; as hedgehogs rarely emerge from their secret, secure worlds amongst the roots and pink truffles of Wonderland.
Contrary to popular belief, we players of the noble game do not hunt about for hedgehogs when we need them; but invite them politely and respectfully, and if they refuse, why there's always another sporting fellow about. Our game schedule fits around the hedgehogs' own private or professional lives, as the case may be. Everyone gets on splendidly, but that's enough of that.
I have a rather friendly chummy hedgehog called Rufus, and he never misses a game. We've scored some splendid holes, he and I.
And the way to play is this.
Sharpen your stick.
Ready your hedgehog.
Using the blunt end of the stick, take a flying swing at him, and score bonus points by uttering a long, drawn-out war cry.
Don't miss.
Give him a thump to wake up the fellow, and off he'll go, speeding across the green.
He'll go as fast as a hedgehog possibly can, which is never all that fast, considering the rather stout constitution that hedgehogs tend to have.
He'll run until he's worn out, and then he'll make a dive for the nearest scoring hole. Once he is in it, you must raise your sharp stick and charge at the hole. As fast as you can, you must write your name next to the hole to claim the points. The more letters you use, the more points you score.
As soon as you have finished this, you and your hedgehog run back to where you started, and wait your turn to begin again. The player who has the most letters after the Dodo has finished singing a long ballad wins. The prize is often a cup of tea.
Simple really.