End of pencil ends
Sir: Since 3 October when I re- vealed in your columns that I accumulate pencil ends too short to use with comfort, too long to throw away without feelings of guilt, and asked for advice on how to use my pencil ends, letters have streamed in first, from all over the British Isles, then from Europe and doubtless there will be succeeding waves from the other continents.
From these letters I construct the profile of a SPECTATOR reader. He, or she, suffers fools kindly, e.g. the many who, without trace of scorn or impatience, reminded me of the existence of pencil holders and of silver pencil holders that take refills. He, or she, is a col- lector and considerate, e.g. the lady who asked me to send her some pencil ends as souvenirs and enclosed a stamped addressed en- velope. Public spirited: the scholar of Balliol who suggested making over my pencil ends to a charitable institution for pencil chewers. Resourceful: 'Why not extract the lead from your pencil end as a refill for a silver pencil holder?' A uni- versity graduate (or at least has access to the note-paper of the Oxford and Cambridge and United Universities Clubs). Fond of children: the lady who urged me to send my pencil ends to friends with grandchildren who play pencil and paper games. Forthright, like the retired major who, meeting me in the London Library, plunged in medial res: `What you need, my dear fellow—' (My thoughts being far away, it took me minutes to fathom that he was not describing his sex life but holders for my pencils). And, not least, generous like Mrs Patricia Een, who wrote from Sweden sending me a plastic pencil holder (`gnawed by my daughter'), such as, she tells me, is issued to all school children in Sweden, and with which I am happily now drafting this to you.
To all these gracious and helpful readers, who have revolutionised my writing life, I offer grateful thanks.
Jossleyn Hennessy 95 Linden Gardens, London w2
Previous page
