By LornaL



This little book I fashioned in pure love
My game it was for many a happy day
And now ’tis done and you have read it through
Perchance you think it foolish in a way

Remember that it was but my intent
To keep a record of the things I thought
The tales are strange, perchance you like them not
The pictures are indifferently wrought

But yet there is some virtue in the thing
It was not fashioned with a thought of gain
If it can but an hour’s amusement bring
For that’s its use - it has not lived in vain

If all along it holds no interest
Forgive it, for at least it does its best

April 29 1929

On 12th December 2018 we posted our first image from Lorna's book Told around the fire. The epilogue above features at the the end of the book, and is the last picture that we will blip from this work, at least for the time being.

We have made a start on transcribing the text of the stories. We hope to return to these to post them online at a later date. In the meantime, we have some more treasures from the archive to share over the coming weeks (as well as the war diary entries, of course). 

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