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My Dearest Prim,
Well I hope you won’t think the less of me for what I’m about to tell you, but there’s no way to get around what’s happened. I never lied to you when you were with me and I don’t think as it’s right to start doing so now.
I’m afraid my love that your husband has behaved like a tom-fool knotbrain. I can’t say as I didn’t have good reason, but that’s no excuse. First, I got into a bit of a tussle with young Mister Whitfoot, if you can believe it. There was a ballyhoo between our Harold and Sarah, and those Whitfoots, and I got in the middle of it, pretty quick. Well, one thing lead to another and before I knew it I had accidentally hit that Kalimac with my cane and then he came at me – and then, would you believe it? Our Harold rushed in like a bull that’s been baited too far and nearly knocked that Kalimac down the pegs he needs knocking down! I don’t mind admitting to you that I was that proud of him. And you should have seen Sarah, too, giving those Whitfoots a proper piece of her mind. I begin to think that she might be developing some sense after all.
But there’s even more. Right in the middle of all this there was a whole pack of wolves that attacked us, and the children were gone into the Forest and there was such a panic and a cry as you’ve never heard. Well, I don’t need to tell you that Harold and I were off at once to save Henry and May, and who came with us but that fool of a Whitfoot Kalimac. You see, his children are so unruly, and his wife such a delicate mother, that our Henry and May are the ones who take care of the Whitfoot little ones now – so they were all off together in the woods with those demons!
It turns out that Harold and I would have been better to think a bit before roaring off into danger, as we soon got lost, and when we did get found again we were attacked by the wolves and very nearly done in by them. I did put one of them back a step, but it was only by the luckiest of chances. Still, the others seem to think that I did something grand and old as I am, I’ve learned that when folk think well of you, that’s no time to go telling them they’re wrong.
But here I am nattering on about myself when I can hear you wanting to know about the children. May and Henry are fine – that May apparently put up quite a fight of her own; she has some grit in her. That young Adelard Proudfoot had got himself mixed up in things too, and he took a bit of a bite from a wolf, but he’ll recover. I should say here that Sarah was there too, ready to do battle with the beasts with her bare hands.
At any rate, all’s well that ends well, and things ended well indeed. It was that touching to see Harold and Sarah getting the little ones back all safe. They were so glad to see Henry and May that they didn’t take the time to give them the proper scolding, so I had to see to that. We had a nice meal back at the camp after all this so the adventure seems to be over for now. I just wish I could be sure it was the last one of this wretched trip, but I’m not so crack-brained as to think that it could be!
I hope that you are well and happy. I miss you awfully.
Your husband,
Grim
P.S. In all fairness I should say that it was young Marcho Bolger who saved us from the wolves.
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