FROM: Mr Phileas Moss Esq.
My dear colleagues,
I write further to the quite extraordinary discovery of several hundred Standard Issue Wee Parasols within my recently recovered Travelling Tote.
Those familiar with the journals of the great explorers will know that the disappearance and subsequent reappearance of expeditionary equipment is by no means without precedent. I am reminded of an incident during an expedition through the Carpathians in which my own suitcase – or ‘valise’, as I rather preferred to refer to it – disappeared from my person, only to reappear in a tavern some miles away inexplicably containing two cabbages, a Hungarian sausage, and a church candle.
No satisfactory explanation was ever established, although the contents combined to provide a most agreeable candlelit supper in the company of Mademoiselle Élodie de Varga, a fine and alluring French snail whom I had met earlier that afternoon while enquiring as to the best route to Brașov.
Still, I digress…
As previously reported, the search for my missing Tote had brought me back to The Chester Station Tap, where I encountered several thousand colleagues from Health & Safety (Ant Division) engaged in celebrations following their historic synchronised quadruple somersault with Wee Parasols fully extended.
The atmosphere was, as one might imagine, exuberant; reminiscent of Oktoberfest, albeit with considerably more parasols and drinking vessels of a rather more modest capacity.
Nevertheless, I remained mindful of my purpose and so continued making diligent enquiries regarding my missing Tote between refreshments. It was during the course of these enquiries that I encountered Station Rat B, who was at that time undertaking duties associated with his community service. I asked him directly whether he had encountered my mission-worn Travelling Tote. He replied…
…oh, please excuse me, my lunch has arrived. I shall continue as soon as I am suitably fortified.
Yours,
Phileas