A poem from Barrie to Sylvia, written (according to Peter) "on the back of a piece of card which has on the other side of it the remains of the name of a Bond Street shop, probably a jeweller." Peter dates it as being November 1900, but Sylvia's 33rd birthday would have been on 25 November 1899 ...
[No original available]
To a Crooked Lady
on her 33rd Birthday.
At thirty-three she's twice as sweet
As sweetest seventeen could be,
At sixty-six I'm sure she'll beat
The record made at thirty-three.
So sure am I her crooked ways
Will baffle Time and all his tricks,
Impatiently I count the days
Till Jocelyn shall be sixty-six.
As the present compilation will end for all practical purposes at 1921 or earlier, it is easy for me to refrain from any observations on the destination of birthday gifts, and the accompanying lines from the same hand, or rather its left counterpart, in 1933. Fortunately, on the whole, since any such observations, besides being unprofitable, would also probably be injudicious and silly.
[AB: I have no idea what Peter is alluding to. Did Barrie give away whatever this particular birthday gift might have been to someone other than Peter, Jack or Nico in 1933? Cynthia perhaps? Seems unlikely, and if the "accompanying lines" were given away too, how was Peter able to transcribe them? Mystery, and, as Peter says, silly, even to speculate.]
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