A good start

Sir Williard,

It is roughly an hour past sunset and I am once again back in the library at my desk. I am pleased to report that I no longer need to sit on crate as my new manservant has found for me a proper chair. Perhaps proper is not the best word for it as this chair was most certainly deliberately left behind because of its poor condition and appearance. None-the-less it is a step up from the crate which I sat upon less than five hours ago. That crate is now serving a far nobler purpose as fuel for a fire that is roasting my evening meal. None of the aetherworks of the house are functioning at all so even though this library is well equipped with a chandelier that sports no fewer than a score of tiny light-crystals and three wall mounted aetherlamps I am currently lighting my desk with a branch of glowbulbs that I have draped through the branches of the hanging brass chandelier.

This species is one of the most commonly found native plant cultivated here in New India, I now know that it was a pair of these shrubs that provided the light for that most shameful encounter in the hotel gardens two nights ago. Each bulb is roughly the size of my thumb and even now, almost an hour after I pruned the branch from one of several overgrown bushes outside the front walkway each bulb produces roughly the same amount of illumination as a small candle. the dozen or so bulbs are more than sufficient to provide light to my oversized desk. I wonder if any attempt has been made to introduce this plant to Earth, many of the poorer regions of the Empire might well benefit from a smoke-free light source that grows in one's backyard.

The smell of seared meat and smoke coming from the open fire on the patio brings a vague memory of camping with my father. I wonder Sir Williard if you and he might have met in London when you were there. He was, I have been told, a simple man and not likely to have moved in the same circles as your lordship, but it is not unlikely that you would have met professionally some physician's convention or speaking event held by the royal society of science.

My newly hired man, Andrews, (I call him Andrews as I find his name to be most inconvenient to articulate) has informed me that dinner will be served in twenty minutes. I wonder if he expects to change into my dinner jacket? I believe that I have made a wise choice in my gentlemen's gentleman, but only time will tell. So far Andrews has proven to ready for any task thrown his way. He lit the fire using a gold lighter that he kept as a memento of his army days, having served as a scout in the infantry corps back on Earth before injury **** his early mustering out. In spite of his age and disability, the man seems undaunted by the challenges of getting this place up and running. I do not know where he found time to acquire the place settings and flatware for the table and sheets for my bed, but by the time I had settled my accounts at the Edwardian Royal he met me as if ready for an expedition with a bulging rucksack and blanket roll strapped to his back. On the side of the backpack was strapped a large ax much like a fireman might carry and several pots and pans glistened through the webbing of the bottom section.

The filthy bed that came with the villa has been remade with clean sheets and a mosquito net now hangs from a makeshift frame that Andrews put together from shafts of a native bamboo tied together neatly with white twine. I had discounted the accounts of large flying bloodsuckers until night fell and several have thumped loudly against the glass panes of the window. Hopefully, none will get into the villa, but if they do the protective netting is much appreciated. I do not care to be bitten and bled by a vampire-sucker the size of a hummingbird. Already I find that my choice in Andrews was justified, not that I had that many candidates to chose from.

There is only one service that provides gentlemen's gentlemen here in New Thames, and they only had two names that they could recommend although the silver haired clerk with whom I spoke admitted that neither candidate was without potential drawbacks. There was first of all the matter of age, one of the two men was well into his seventh decade while the other was just about my age - too young, the clerk seemed to think, to serve a youngster like me without the temperament to keep his manservant's youthful energy channeled. Furthermore there is the issue of nationality. The silver-haired agent explained almost apologetically that none of the men looking for placement were Englishman, for my situation and budget I'd have to settle for either a too young hawk-nosed Ottoman Turk with a prosthetic leg or a septuagenarian from the Kenyan province of East Africa whose eyesight was getting so bad that even with glasses he could barely see more than ten yards.

Seeing my hesitation, the clerk offered to send to New Delhi and ask for other candidates but he was unsure if I'd have a much better selection. It was not so much the pay, he explained, as the squalid condition of the villa and the size of the staff my man would be responsible for. Large enough to be a source of head-aches, but not large enough to warrant the title (and pay) of a major-domo. In the end, Sir Williard, I decided that with only two days to get my affairs in order that I could not wait to see if a better candidate for the job could be found in some other city of province.

I met with both of the men briefly in the service's chambers and found that both spoke the King's tongue as fluently as their native gibber-jabber. I let them know what was needed and told them as honestly as possible about the unique conditions of this position. I wanted to make it plain from the start that they would be responsible for hiring the staff and setting up my household accounts, furthermore I warned them of the rundown nature of this villa and of the work that it would take to restore this house to its former standards. I was impressed with the positive attitude of Andrews, he assured me that he saw the ability to have input in the engagement of staff as a plus that would, in the long run, make his job much easier.

As you likely already suspect Sir Williard, unlike you, I have never had to hire a manservant for more than a week or two. I've certainly not ever had to hire somebody to oversee the restoration of the villa, hire and supervise my staff, and manage the daily budget everyday while I was at work. I must say that I found both men to be surprisingly qualified despite their handicaps, ultimately the decision came down to the matter of experience. In the end the question became did I want the experience of the tall Kenyan or the youthful energy of the hawk-nosed Turk?