The weather has broken up again as I was afraid it would. Today started with a Scotch mist which very soon turned into a real soak. It is not cold, far from it, but the whole atmosphere is about as damp and steamy as one can imagine. This of course means that it is the worst possible weather for a view and I have had few opportunities during the last day or two for studying the habits and customs of my interesting friends over the way. I went for a short ride yesterday afternoon with Viccars and found my gee going most excellently. She was fresh and consequently a trifle inclined to pull me along, but we got on excellently together. We passed quite near a battery firing and I’m glad to say she did not object in the slightest to the noise. Most animals would have stood on their hind legs and pawed the air, or turned somersaults. We got back just in time to hear the band play Bric a Brac. Considering that not one of them has ever seen the piece, and very few of them ever heard the music before, they did very well indeed I thought. The audience seemed very bucked especially when Viccars, red hat and all, was so carried away that he performed a sort of tango-cake-walk in public. What they all want now is the music of the “Bing boys” – who they may be I do not know. The interpreter has gone on leave again – he always seems to be running away to his home at Lyons, and has leave a most disgraceful number of times. I wonder if it will start again soon for us.