Hotel Lotteries
Humapore, Straights Settlements

November 7, 1930

What Ho, Bingo!

Greetings from B. Wister, now on the great hejira from my comfortable rooms and the Drones Club and the bevy of the ancient relations that are my aunts and all that that implies. My man Cheebles and I have fled the mother of p. on a mission from Aunt Ageta. You may recall my cousins Claude and Eustace. They have apparently found someone even more half-witted than themselves, and have been given the positions of managers on one of T.J. Lipounce’s tea plantations in the Rajahdom of Sarakwak. Since Aunt Ageta has not heard anything from the chaps since they disappeared into the rain forest, she naturally descended upon me as the hordes of Midian of old. After insulting my appearance and general intelligence of old Bernard Wildebeest Wister, Aunt Ageta proceeded to place a geas upon me. I am detailed to become Sanders of the River, track down her Lost Boys, determine that they have not yet Gone Native, speak to them in good Anglo-Saxon and, if necessary, to return with them to London “if things have gone too far”.

We have traveled here by P & O steamer via Suez, Aden, and Ceylon. This Hotel Lotteries is named for Sir Stamford Lotteries (some relation of the noted cricketeer A. J. Lotteries, I’m sure) and is the most elegant and modern in Humapore. Humapore is the most amazing melange of races and languages and cultures: English, Melee, ethnic Chinese, Hindus and Tamils, Arabs, Dutch, European Jews, and mixtures of any of those above. It is quite astonishing how well it works here. And the business is definitely booming here, to hear any of the local merchants (European taipans and Chinese) speak. Humapore is the key to the trade in the whole region and beyond. The gorgeous smells were the first thing to strike us, even before our ship docked. Cheebles has deduced: “A touch of mouldering coconut, a soupcon of rich frangipani, and topped up with the heady scents of cinnamon, cloves and pepper”.

Cheebles has been at great effort to keep my kit clean and appropriate, and had particular strain over the matter of headgear. All seems to have been settled, we have dispensed with the spine pad, and I will appear in public in either straw boater (with the band of my college) or sola topee (also known as the “Bombay bowler”). This way the tropic sun (mad dogs and E., of course) will not fry what few brain cells old Wister still possesses.

Cheebles has engaged a local dragoman, Tuan Sri Mohmed, who seems unclear on some aspects of English usage but otherwise quite the jolliest chap that one could wish. We have booked with the “Flying Pig Air Service” for passage via float-autogyro service to Sarakwak. Once there, we will proceed via river steamer to the plantation.

After this quest is completed, I hope to travel on to Oystralia, Spontoon Island and the other more obscure archipelagos of the vast Pacific Rim.

Cheebles asks to be remembered to Mrs. Bingo, as do I, and to all the little ones. Please tell Gussie Bink-Fettle that we have seen the most amazing variety of newts, geckos, and assorted reptilia in the course of this quest. Cheebles has secured samples and shipped them to Gussie under separate cover.

Chuff Chuff! Must go, it’s time for pahits – cocktails!

Bernie
Bernard Wildebeest Wister