From The Surrey Shore . . .
The Newsletter of the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore Vol. 1, No. 4, August 2002
****A Scion Society for All Who Enjoy Sherlock Holmes in All His Manifestations!****
Okay—not really (although some may wish we would). But we are heading straight to the local graveyard for the September meeting of The Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore (Indianapolis’ newest—and only independent—Sherlockian scion), as we conduct “A Grave Investigation” on the hallowed grounds of historic Crown Hill Cemetery, off 38th Street on Indianapolis’ West side, on Sunday afternoon, September 8, from 1:15 to 4 p.m. (See the “Upcoming Meetings” section at the end of this newsletter for directions, or visit the Crown Hill Web site at www.crownhill.org for directions and a map of the cemetery. You can also call the cemetery at 317-925-8231 for additional information.) We’ll be gathering for a short meeting at 1:15 at the Gothic Chapel, in the part of the cemetery that lies south of 38th Street, after which we’ll join one of the cemetery’s special, guided public tours, this one highlighting Civil War-area grave sites. Cost for this part of the event is $5 (or $4 for seniors over 55 and $3 for students). The tour begins promptly at 2 p.m., so if you can’t make the meeting portion, be there by 1:45 p.m. so that we can tour as a group. (To find your fellow Hated Rivals, look for people in deerstalkers or other Victorian wear.) The main tour wraps up at about 3:30 p.m. Following that, we’ll take the optional hike to the top of Crown Hill itself. Make sure that you wear comfortable walking shoes so that you don’t find your dogs barking in the nighttime later that evening. Those who hunger for additional Sherlockian fellowship after the tour may join us for an early dinner at a local area restaurant, to be chosen then by all who wish to participate.
Couple lengthy topics to cover this issue, so without further adieu (or a-don’t), here we go! As promised last time, we’re exploring in this issue the Canonical history of our namesake, Mr. Barker, as described in the Holmes story “The Retired Colourman.” We also engage in some speculation about this man, of whom even the Master Detective of Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes, thought enough to dub his “hated rival upon the Surrey Shore.” (And you know that, if Sherlock Holmes considers someone to be competent enough as a detective to call him a rival, that man must be quite skilled at his trade indeed.)
The first official Canonical mention of Baker, as that point unnamed, comes during Watson’s report to Holmes in “Retired Colourman” of his visit with Josiah Amberley at the latter’s home, the Haven. Watson describes a man that he encounters as “a lounger who was smoking in the street . . . a tall, dark, heavily moustached, rather military-looking man” who gave the good doctor “a curiously questioning glance” that stuck in Watson’s memory. Watson then reports that he saw the same man board the train that he took and then again at London Bridge, concluding that the man was following him. Watson then adds that he lost the man in the crowd. (More on this later.) Holmes amazes Watson by filling in some details that the doctor had omitted from his description—that the man wore gray-tinted sunglasses and a Masonic tie pin, which Watson confirms. Later, in encountering that same man sitting with Holmes at Amberley’s, Watson adds that he is a “stern-looking, impassive man.” And, finally, Watson describes Barker as “our taciturn companion.” So we can conclude that he was probably a man of few words.
` These few passages are all that the Canon offers in the way of a physical description of Barker, although we can deduce from a later passage, in which Holmes describes how Barker nabbed him in climbing out Amberley’s window, that Barker must have been quite strong. How? Holmes states that he recognized the detective only “when [he] could twist [his] head round,” implying that it took some effort for Holmes to do so. We know from “The Adventure of the Speckled Band,” that Holmes himself was inordinately strong for such a wiry individual: After Dr. Grimesby Roylott demonstrated his own strength by bending an iron poker nearly in two, Holmes performed the even more remarkable feat of unbending the same instrument. So if Barker was able to restrain Holmes even for a few moments, we can surmise that Barker was probably at least nearly as strong as Holmes himself or Holmes could have quickly turned and recognized his captor as his “friend and rival, Mr. Barker.” (Although why Amberley could later even wriggle and twist in the grip of two men of such strength – “two experienced man-handlers,” as Watson describes them – is another minor Canonical mystery.)
We can determine one other thing about Barker’s appearance if we take into account the only illustration we have of the man, which accompanied the original publication of “The Retired Colourman.” In the scene in which Barker nabs Holmes as the latter is climbing out of Amberley’s window, Barker is depicted as wearing a bowler. Although his attire at the time may have been chosen so as not to stand out so much during his stakeout of Amberley’s home, we feel confident in deducing that this was probably Barker’s regular headwear. (If countless later portrayals of Homes wearing a deerstalker can be justified by the one Padget illustration in which he did so, we see no reason why we can’t picture Barker in a bowler, based on the only Canonical illustration of the detective.) To see for yourselves, you can check out a copy of this picture on the Contacts page of our Hated Rivals Web site.
So what about Barker’s abilities as a detective? Again, we turn to Holmes’ own descriptions of his “friend” and “rival” – the former term one that Holmes applies rarely in the Canon (Watson being the chief example) and the latter one that he applies only to Barker. Holmes generally held a rather dim view of other detectives, both official and unofficial. He occasionally had kind words to say about Scotland Yard’s inspectors – MacDonald and Hopkins primarily – but, for the most part, considered the official police to be bunglers. As for fictional detectives, such as Poe’s Auguste Dupin, Holmes dismissed them out of hand. And although he employed a number of operatives throughout the Canon, Barker is the only other private detective that the Master Sleuth of Baker Street ever names as one with whom he’s willing to work. After discovering that it was Barker who’d caught him slipping out of Amberley’s window, Holmes compared notes with his rival, and they “continued the case together.” Barker, it seemed, had “come to the same conclusion as to foul play” in the case, as had Holmes. Although their methods were slightly different, their conclusions were identical – not too shabby to be on a par with Sherlock Holmes in that area.
What else, then, can we conclude from the evidence about Barker’s proficiencies in his chosen profession? He must have been efficient, as in preparing to take Amberley in, Barker already has a cab at the door, ready to transport the man to the nearest police station. He must have gained the full confidence of Holmes, as the latter felt secure in leaving Barker “to look after the formalities” so that he could return to the crime scene to fill Watson in on Barker’s involvement in the case. As to Barker’s ability as a detective, Holmes states that he “has several good cases to his credit” (to which Inspector MacKinnon grudgingly answers, “He has certainly interfered several times” – something often said of Holmes himself.) And then Holmes pays Barker what can only be considered the highest of compliments: “His methods are irregular, no doubt, like my own.” (Emphasis added.) Although the comparison here to Holmes’ own methods is in the context of being irregular, we seriously doubt that Holmes would have made such a comparison at all if he didn’t consider Barker nearly his equal as a detective. He also trusts Barker to follow his own lead in completing the case in stating that Barker “has done nothing save what I told him.” And, we can see, too, that Barker is more concerned with seeing justice done than with his own ego, as like Holmes himself, he is willing to let the official police take the credit for solving the case.
But what of the story’s record of Barker’s stakeout and his subsequent tailing of Watson, which the good doctor detected? Holmes tells us that Barker “had watched the house for some days and had spotted Dr. Watson as one of the obviously suspicious characters who had called there. He could hardly arrest Watson, but when he saw a man actually climbing out of the pantry window there came a limit to his restraint.” Barker was obviously a very patient man, as he’d watched Amberley’s residence “for some days,” and perceptive, as he’d obviously spotted Watson as a “suspicious character.” He also detected Holmes (who once bragged that he could have made a living as a burglar had he not chosen the side of justice) sneaking out of Amberley’s – but, then, why didn’t he detect Holmes entering the premises? Well, first, we don’t know that he didn’t. Holmes merely reports Barker’s detection and capture of him on leaving the house. The taciturn Barker may simply have neglected mentioning that he’d spotted Holmes entering as well but waited until the intruder emerged to catch him red-handed. And if not, perhaps he was simply taking a necessary . . . well, break at the time (perhaps at a public watercloset?). After all, although he’d watched the house for days, he surely didn’t do so nonstop. And as we have no record of him working with anyone else, he still would need to leave occasionally. (And he did leave to follow the “suspicious” Watson, so we have an actual record of him doing so.) Either way, to have caught Holmes at all implies more positives about Barker’s observation skills than perhaps missing the entry does negatives.
But wait! In tailing Watson, Barker was not only spotted by the doctor, but according to the story, Watson managed to lose Barker. What does that say about Barker’s skill in following someone? (Holmes once said that, in response to a suspect stating that he saw no one following him, that was what he could expect to see if Holmes was following him.) Was Barker deficient in this area of the detective game? Well, first, we must realize that it is Watson who’s reporting this. Although we needn’t doubt the good doctor’s record of what he saw, we can speculate about what conclusions can be drawn. First, recall that the story takes place in 1898, so Watson had spent nearly 14 years working with Holmes. It’s not inconceivable that, in that time period, the good doctor had developed his own skills sufficiently to be able to lose a tail. And yet, Watson never states nor implies that he deliberately lost the man following him. So did Barker fail here? Perhaps—and if so, it means little, as even Holmes made mistakes in some of his cases (for example, “The Yellow Face”) On the other hand, perhaps Barker meant to be seen, as a warning to this suspicious fellow to stay away from Amberley’s. And perhaps Barker finally decided that this suspect really wasn’t worth further pursuit and broke off to return to his stakeout. Then again, maybe Watson never actually lost Barker at all. If you examine his actual statement, “I saw him once more at London Bridge, and then I lost him in the crowd,” you could conclude that Watson merely lost sight of his follower, who then pursued the doctor to his final destination, determined him no threat, and returned to Amberley’s. (Of course, if he’d followed Watson to Baker Street, Barker certainly would know that Holmes was on the same case and not been at all surprised to learn the identity of the man emerging from Amberley’s window . . .)
In examining Holmes’ testimony of Barker’s strengths verses Watson’s report of Barker’s pursuit, regardless of what happened in the latter, I think we are still safe in concluding that Barker was himself a master sleuth capable enough in his field that Holmes could honestly place him on a level comparable to his own as a more than competent rival in the whole art of detection. And when Holmes at last retired to the Sussex Downs, we believe that he could do so confident in the knowledge that all of London remained safe in the capable hands of his “hated rival upon the Surrey Shore”—Barker! (For a much longer version of this article, including numerous additional deductions and speculations, plus a possible earlier Canonical sighting of Barker, see the article “The Man Called Barker” on the Publications page of our Web site.)
After rereading a couple of our past newsletters, I began to wonder whether someone may think that we have something against Sherlockian purists, as we’ve mentioned them a couple times in what could be misconstrued as a disparaging way. If that was the impression you got, let me reassure you that we have nothing but respect for all Sherlockians, whether they be purists, generalists, specialists—whatever. The only problem that we may have with any Sherlockian who is a purist is if that person is also an elitist.
To clarify, we probably should define what we mean by a “purist” vs. an “elitist.” In essence, a Sherlockian “purist” is merely a Sherlockian who prefers to read, discuss, and consider only the original Sherlock Holmes stories by Doyle—the 60 tales that Sherlockians dub “the Canon.” Some may “fudge” a bit to include other stories by Doyle among their interests, especially those considered by some experts to be “semi-Canonical,” or may also list one or two other related aspects of the hobby as “acceptable” areas of study—especially Doyle himself. But the main focus of a purist’s pursuit of the hobby lies squarely in the original Holmes stories. And there’s certainly nothing wrong about that. Many great Sherlockians were purists—and we tip our hats to them. The hobby wouldn’t be what it is today without them. We simply mean to emphasize that we, as a scion, are not strictly purist in our outlook. As our masthead proclaims, we enjoy Holmes in all his many manifestations. The original Holmes stories are absolutely great—but so are a lot of other aspects of the hobby. And we want you to know that you needn’t be a purist to be welcome and to find like-minded Sherlockians at our meetings. But we certainly wouldn’t turn away any purists either, should any want to share with us their usually vast knowledge of the Canon.
A Sherlockian elitist, however, is another story entirely. The elitist is the only exception to our statement that we respect all Sherlockians. Elitists are poison to a true Sherlockian scion. And they can suck the very life out of the entire hobby—not to mention the fun—for far too many Sherlockians should they manage to take root in a scion (or, even worse, gain control of one). So what exactly is an elitist? Well, we hope that you’ve never had the misfortunate to run across one—and, thankfully, they’re really very rare in our hobby (although, sadly, not unknown). In fact, the vast majority of Sherlockians are great people and not at all elitist in nature. But every group of any size has a few bad apples (or, perhaps, rotten orange pips). You can tell the Sherlockian elitist by checking the angle of his nose—straight up in the air (metaphorically speaking, of course). The elitist is the kind of Sherlockian who looks down on others in the hobby if they’re not “enlightened” enough to share his own particular area of interest—an area that the elitist firmly believes is superior to all other areas of Sherlockiana. Of course, that also makes the elitist superior (in his own mind, at least) to all other Sherlockians. And a scion that focuses only on the elitist’s own area of interest is also “superior” to those scions that don’t or that have a broader range of interests — including perhaps the very same scion that the elitist now belongs to at an earlier stage in its existence. (Or course, to the elitist, before he and his views became prevalent, that scion wasn’t really a scion—or perhaps he magnanimously considers it merely to have “fallen into disrepute” or “entered a period of indifference and drift” for a while, until it finally “came to its senses” and got rid of all those trivial, “unworthy” Sherlockian pursuits. Coincidentally, its “revival” often occurs at the time the elitist and his cronies either took over or managed to crush out competing interests.)
Now, before anyone gets the wrong idea, let me clarify that I’m not talking about a scion that was founded or that focuses by design on a particular aspect of the hobby. Nor am I referring to scions that may revolve around a shared interest of members beyond a love of Sherlock Holmes—for example, professional scions (where all members are, say, lawyers or doctors) or multi-hobby scions (where all members are also, say, amateur beekeepers or role-playing gamers or the like). Such scions are not elitist. In fact, few scions, as a whole, are. You’re more likely to find an isolated elitist (or, worse, a clique of them) in an otherwise good scion. Rarely does the situation evolve beyond that. So if you belong to a scion, you can usually avoid its elitists, if any, and just hope that they eventually leave. (If they find out that they can’t dominate anyone else, they often do.) If you want to see a scion die, however, look for one of which the elitists have managed to take control. True, it may even continue on for many years—but at its heart, it’s deader than that poor dog on which Holmes tested the poison pill. It may even appear on the surface to be vibrant and open and alive, but as you get more deeply involved, you begin to see tell-tale signs.
Elitist Scions—What to Watch Out For
Does a scion, for example, start out electing new officers every year — but then the same two or three people begin to rotate from year to year in a position? Or does one person become a perpetual incumbent—a “president for life”? If so, elitists may have taken over (especially if other people want to serve as officers but are opposed by an incumbent who uses his incumbency to remain entrenched against all comers; if only a handful wants to serve as officers, that’s entirely different.) You also find, after elitists take over, that scion activities eventually take on a boring sameness—all meetings are mainly, say, story discussions and a quiz, while anything different is vetoed by the “officers” because it doesn’t fit into their idea of a scion meeting (or they lack the originality to come up with anything else). And if things were ever different in a scion’s past, the elitists use scion newsletters, “special” anniversary brochures, and so on to constantly pound into newer members that the scion’s old ways of doing things were the “bad old days” and that today’s “new improved” or “back-on-track” scion is the only way to go . . . if, of course, you’re a real Sherlockian.
Even more telling, if an entire clique of elitists is involved, are scion meetings in which the clique members all sit or gather together, while new people, following perhaps a perfunctory greeting by whoever’s “in charge,” are left to their own devices. The new people may even have to sit alone at a separate table, ignored by the elitists. Any nonelitist member who does choose to sit with the “outsiders” is similarly ignored. Eventually, the elitist clique begins devising new “bylaws” for the scion, sometimes even ramming through rules excluding entire categories of people that the elitists don’t want around (children, for example) . . . and the scion is on its way down. Sadly, the true Sherlockians eventually leave such scions, and the elitists are freed to blow their own horns and proclaim how great they and “their” scion are (which by then bares little resemblance to the original group). Fortunately for the majority of good, honest Sherlockians that make up the hobby, such groups really are rare—and, if they exist at all, they’re rarely the only game in town.
So that’s what we mean by elitists. And although some elitists may also be purists, certainly not all Sherlockians who are purists—by far—are also elitists. The thing to remember, however, is that elitists are in no way representative of our hobby as a whole. And if you ever see anyone in this scion begin to act as just described, please do us a favor: Place a good, solid, British hiking boot squarely in the middle of our hinder parts and keep doing so until we get the idea. Elitists certainly may hate us for it, but we want The Hated Rivals to remain an open and fun scion for all Sherlockians, no matter how they like their Sherlock. (And for more information on different types of Sherlockians, as well as an expanded rant on those nasty elitists, check out the article “A Sherlockian Menagerie,” on our Web site.)
Well, that closes this edition of “A Letter from Barker” (and all the permutations thereof). Drop by a meeting or drop us an e-mail (see addresses at end of this newsletter) to learn more about how much fun Sherlockiana can be as a hobby—or how you, too, can become a Hated Rival on the Surrey Shore. In the meantime, I remain, your humble servant . . .
A stalwart group of Hated Rivals braved the heat and humidity—plus the Independence weekend holiday crowds—to enjoy a shared picnic lunch outside the grounds of the Conner Prairie Living History Museum on Saturday, July 5. In addition to good eats and fine fellowship, attendees engaged in a lively discussion of some of the latest Sherlockian pastiches and other items to hit local and other markets, as well as some of the most recent Internet offerings. Newest Rival Ed Amos also shared from a trove of poems, sayings, and humor that he’d recently gleaned from the World Wide Web. Among the activities was an exercise in observation and deductive reasoning—putting a Sherlockian eye to such recent and past events as the 9/11 tragedy and the Oklahoma City bombing. Would Sherlock Holmes have merely accepted the conventional media and government versions of such events? Or would his trained investigator’s mind have uncovered certain discrepancies and explored other . . . possibilities? The conclusions that the group arrived at were often ingenious and occasionally startling! (For the fascinating details, check with us at a future scion meeting. We dare not elaborate further in such an unguarded venue . . .) Following lunch, several Rivals ventured onto the museum grounds for additional adventures. All went home with filled stomachs but hungry for future gatherings of the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore.
In keeping with this issue’s theme concerning our namesake, Mr. Barker, here’s a bit of trivia from the Victorian underworld. The term barker was Victorian criminal slang for a pistol—most likely an abbreviation of “barking irons,” as early pistols were often known. The sound that they made was likened to that of a barking dog—hence, the adjective. Whether this term was a conscience inspiration for Doyle in his choice of names for Holmes rival, however, is unknown. (If anyone should have any knowledge along these lines, however, please contact us.)
But the term wasn’t limited to the underworld in Victorian times. It also served as the title for certain types of agricultural workers in the countryside, whose specialty was stripping the bark from trees. Such a worker was known, of course, as a barker.
I Hear of Sherlock Everywhere!
The first issue of The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Vol. II, hit the stands this past July. It starts out in 1898 on Mars, with Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter, Warlord of Mars, leading an assault by the different Martian races in the Burroughs Mars novels against an enclave held by the octopoid Martians of H.G. Wells' War of the Worlds. As Carter’s forces close in amid clouds of Black Smoke released by the tripod war machines, the Martian invasion capsules launch to Earth. (Carter finds in the deserted enclave a crystal egg, from the Wells story of the same name—just as in the Wellmans' Sherlock Holmes War of the Worlds pastiche of the ’70s—showing scenes from London, indicating the aliens’ destination.) The first installment of the story ends with Mina Harker (nee Murray), Allan Quartermain, Capt. Nemo, Dr. Jekyll, and Griffin (the Invisible Man) emerging from a coach (initialed V.R.) to view the crater of the first lander near Horsell and Woking. After the graphic-novel portion of the book comes part one of a text "travelogue" of numerous sites of legend and fiction around Britain, including Baskerville Hall and Camford University (from “The Creeping Man”). The inside back cover reprints period ads (and at least one "pastiche" ad). The book's supposed to be on a monthly schedule, but the people at the specialty comic store where I bought it told me that it may actually come out on a more irregular schedule, as did the first series, which stretched out across more than a year. (Although a recent issue of an advance order book listed issue four for this October, and issue two just appeared on the stands as of the last week in August.) So far, it looks like a good follow-up to the first series, even though most of the first issue was a lead-in to the actual action to come. No word yet as to whether Holmes the younger will make another appearance, although rumors are that Mycroft has at least a small role now that he’s taken over as the British Secret Service’s M (a post that Moriarty held in the first series). The first series, already available in a hardback collection, has now also been compiled as a trade paperback and is available for order in specialty comic stores and most bookstores—and on the Web, too.
The new mystery series on the USA Network, "Monk," had a Sherlockian reference in its first episode. The title character, Adrian Monk, played by Tony Shalhoub (formerly of "Wings" and other TV series) is a former police detective who now acts as a consultant for the police. (He developed a number of severe neuroses and obsessions following the murder of his wife and was discharged from the force.) In the first episode, he's described as having "a zen Sherlock Holmes thing" going. Although he's unlike Holmes in any other way, his observation and deductive abilities are very much like those of Holmes. In one episode, for example, he deduced that a woman had been having an affair with a suspect for five years by observing five annual commemorative champagne bottles on her mantle. In another, he deduced that an assassin was a former Special Forces soldier by observing that the drapery cords were curled in such a way as to hold steady a rifle—a trait learned in the service. It's an enjoyable show overall, a mixture of humor and adventure (even if a few holes were left in the plot of some shows aired so far). It's on the USA cable channel on Friday nights at 9 p.m. CDT (and repeated later in the following week).
The series "Murder Rooms" ended its run on PBS’s “Mystery” in mid-August. The series featured Charles Edwards as a young Conan Doyle involved in and solving crimes along with his former teacher, Dr. Joseph Bell (played ably in the series by Ian Richardson, who also played Holmes in two movies in the '80s). The stories, taking place in the early 1880s, are fictional but billed as the inspirations for many of Doyle’s Holmes stories. (The series is subtitled, in fact, “The Dark Beginnings of Sherlock Holmes.”) One story, for example, involved a “solitary cyclist” and a frightening stalker—a tale that ended sadly for Doyle. In another, a circus poster screamed “The Giant Rat of Sumatra!” The same episode also included references to Doyle’s Professor Challenger and The Lost World. If you missed the series this time around, keep an eye on the TV listings, as it’ll surely be rerun before too long.
Curious Incidents: Being the Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes is a collection of six new Holmes stories written by Sherlockians: “The Case of Vamberry, The Wine Merchant” (one of Watson’s many “untold” tales), by James R. Stefanie; “The Adventure of the Lodger's Secret,” by Kristin Vichich; “A Slaying in Suburbia,” by G. Kelly; “The First Mate's Jacket,” by J. R. Campbell; “The Case of Lady Sannox,” by Peter H. Wood; and “The Adventure of the Tired Captain,” by Bob Byrne. The 96-page trade paperback also features illustrations by Phil Cornell and can be ordered via check, money order, or cash from Mad For A Mystery, Suite D 308, 3805 Marlborough Drive N. E., Calgary, AB T2A 5M4, Canada. Post-paid prices are $10 U.S. for surface mail and $12 for air mail. (For additional ordering information, especially in Canada and overseas, visit www.bakerstreetdozen.com/ciorders.html.)
Hated Rival Jon Burroughs will again be portraying Indiana’s famed Victorian-era poet, James Whitcomb Riley, in two upcoming venues. First up is an 11 a.m. show on Saturday, August 31, at the Church in Riley Square in Greenfield, IN (East of Indianapolis, off I-70 or U.S. 40/Washington Street). Second is Saturday and Sunday, from noon to 4 p.m., October 5 and 6, at the Riley Birthplace Museum, on East Main Street (U.S. 40) in Greenfield. If you haven’t seen one of Jon’s portrayals, we urge you to drop by one of those dates. If you need more information, contact us, and we’ll put you in touch.
A Grave Investigation!
Sunday, September 8, from 1:15 to 4 p.m.
Crown Hill Cemetery, 700 W. 38th Street, Indianapolis, IN
Directions and Details: Take West 38th Street to Crown Hill, which lies about 7 blocks west of Meridian Street. Turn south on Boulevard Place, just east of the cemetery, and enter at the 34th Street entrance at 34th and Boulevard Place. Follow the white line painted on the road to the Gothic Chapel. We’ll meet at the Chapel at 1:15 p.m. and be taking a guided tour of many of the cemetery’s Civil War-era sites at 2. Cost for the tour is $5 ($4 for seniors over 55, $3 for students). The tour ends at about 3:30 p.m. back at the Chapel, after which we’ll take the optional hike to the top of Crown Hill itself. Following is an optional early dinner at a local restaurant. (Note: The tour goes on even in the rain, unless it’s a severe downpour, so do come anyway—but bring an umbrella.)
“…Afghanistan, I Perceive”
Saturday, November 9, from 1:30 to 4 p.m.
Lawrence Library, 7898 N. Hague Rd., Indianapolis, IN
Location and Details: The Library is on North Hague Road, just a few blocks south of 82nd Street and just north of Lawrence North High School. Meeting activities include a talk on “Afghanistan in the Victorian Age,” by our own resident Victorian expert, Bill Barton, and a short Sherlockian video program, as well as a Sherlockian musical performance by the new duo “Holmes and Watson.” We’ll also be celebrating Lady Molly’s birthday with cake and other refreshments and taking suggestions and discussing ideas for our 2003 meetings. Fun, food, and great fellowship—all for free!—a combination you won’t want to miss.
For more information, contact us c/o Bill Barton, P.O. Box 26290, Indianapolis, IN 46226-0290; or Mimi DeMore, P.O. Box 482, Fishers, IN 46038. Contact us by e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com. (And don’t forget to venture online to check out our Hated Rivals Web site at http://surrey-shore.freeservers.com or our Indy Star Web page at http://community.indystar.com/928/ for recent updates.) See you again back on the ol’ Surrey Shore, where the game’s always . . . well, you know!