Lot 94 , Milne, Alan Alexander (1882-1956) - An a/l, 3pp. 8vo, dated December 1927, from 13, Mallord Street, Chelsea, to an unnamed recipient, ‘’I expect you know the story of the man who took his friend to the bar, and said, wit

Milne, Alan Alexander (1882-1956) - An a/l, 3pp. 8vo, dated December 1927, from 13, Mallord Street, Chelsea, to an unnamed recipient, ‘’I expect you know the story of the man who took his friend to the bar, and said, with a large and generous air, “Now then, what would you like?” – to which his friend replied that he thought he would like a pint of champagne . “Oh!” said his host, “Well, try thinking of something nearer threepence .” What the Hampstead General Hospital would like is £10,000, and it would be a simplification of its finances if you were charming enough to send them a cheque for that amount in the enclosed envelope; but if you would prefer to think of something nearer threepence I shall understand. Not near enough to give you the bother of buying stamps or postal orders; something in guineàs, I suggest, which will give you no more trouble than the opening of your cheque-book. But just as you like, so long as you help us.

The Hampstead General and North-West London Hospital, to give it its full title, which need not all be put on the cheque, has a debt of £10,000, and needs another £5000 of your income in order to pay its way. I could give you further figures of it’s income and expenditure, and the number of patients attended, of the operations performed, but these might not interest you. More interesting perhaps, is this: that where it’s out-patients department now stands in Bayham Street, Camden Town, there once stood the house where Charles Dickens lived as a boy when his father first came to London. His father, you remember, had that habit, which was to descend to Mr Micawber, of living in the hope that something would turn up. It is thus that Hospitals have to live. They can make no promise for the gracious work they do; they just struggle on from day to day, hoping that men will always be generous, women always merciful. So day after day, hospital after hospital makes its appeal to you, and, no doubt, day after day at this time you open such a letter, say with a shrug “Another charity”, and drop it in the fire. Which is why I began with a joke, as something to which one listens more readily. Having listened, will you not now be kind?

The reason why I and not the Appeal Secretary, am writing – is writing – (every now and then the stylish language becomes just impossible) – the reason then why one of us and not the other is writing to you is that there are people who look at the signature of a letter first; in which case, sack the appeal secretary, my name would be the more helpful; though whether his hope is that you will have heard of me, or his fear was that you would have heard of him, I do not know. Yet, as a professional writer I could not but share this feeling that I should prove the more readable of the two of us. So I am hoping that you have read this letter but I must warn you that, as a professional writer, I am not satisfied to be read for nothing. The question of the author’s royalties is before you. Send what you can to me at the Hampstead General, and you will be glad and proud afterwards, and I shall be always

Your humble and grateful servant,

A.A. Milne’’
£300-500

Condition:
There is no envelope A few erasures but test legible

Sold for £360