Hagging for beginners #1
When I have time to write what would undoubtedly be a best-selling beginners' guide for women who would like to be fag hags but who don't really know where to start, I shall use this photograph of Puss Puss to illustrate one of the prime criteria for a succesful relationship with one's fag.
Never choose a fag for whom your clothes would be too small.
Being more than amply proportioned myself, I have the freedom to ally myself even with fags of a rugby-player's build, but I would recommend my slighter sisters against setting their sights on someone as tall and chunky as Puss Puss.
Had my velvet coat not been big enough for him, it might have suffered irreparable damage: once he had clapped eyes on its lustre, nothing on earth would have prevented him from trying it on. Indeed, I don't think I have ever seen him leap from a chair so quickly as when I asked him whether he had spotted it gracing the newel post on his way into the lounge.
Readers with a keen eye for background detail will no doubt recognise that we are still in the lounge at Hotel Algernon at this point. I am forbidden to reveal which of those present tried The Hat on after they had drunk their pink champagne. But - on an entirely unconnected note, you understand - I'd like to wish Pop good luck this evening in his first performance as Bob Cratchitt in A Christmas Carol.