Posted on September 10, 2013
Captain P. Fawcett
In my most recent of travels I have scoured the globe, ranging as far afield as the foothills of the Smoky Mountains in the good ole USA to the deserts of Rajasthan, from the Snowy peaks of the Italian Tirol to the below sea level depths of the Norfolk fens I have indeed thrown caution to the wind and without fear or hesitation ventured into the leafy suburbs of Twickenham.
The quest? A bid to source the very finest ingredients for my very own range of tip top Gentleman's Grooming Requisites.
Miss Allie Astell’s (my erstwhile biographer and sometime expedition organiser) mysterious disappearance and the need to cope with the ensuing hullabaloo had delayed my departure to the grand ol' USA. Receiving the delightful news that my dear chum is now safe and sound and with these unseemly shenanigans hopefully at an end, I apply a liberal dollop of my patent pomade and with a spring in my step, set off once again in search of my fortune. It is with no little excitement that I board the sleeping car of the Chicago and Northwestern railroad bound for Deadwood, South Dakota. Yee Hah! Fawcett.
Dear chums, as you no doubt all fully aware I am at present preparing my for my next, some might say foolhardy expedition. I have accepted an invitation to visit the U. S of A.
Here I intend to hook up with that rake and sometime friend Tubby Williams and travel on to the Black Hills of South Dakota where with a posse of ne'er do wells will prospect for silver and good fortune. Yippee. Fawcett.