­­­­            Fr­­­­­­­­om The Surrey Shore  .    .    .

­­­­­­­­­­­The Newsletter of the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore              Vol. 2, No. 3, June 2003

****A Scion Society for All Who Enjoy Sherlock Holmes in All His Manifestations!****


You Say It’s Your Birthday?

                What? You don’t say it’s your birthday — because it’s not? No problem. For the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore have officially designated July 12 as Barker’s birthday (see below) — and you are all invited to celebrate it with Sherlock Holmes’ illustrious rival at our next meeting, on Saturday, July 12, from 1 to around 4 p.m., at Lord Ashley’s Pub & Eatery, at the southwest corner of Pendleton Pike and Oaklandon Road, in northeast Indianapolis. (We’ll be meeting in one of the pub’s two meeting rooms, so when you arrive, ask for the Hated Rivals party.) Attendees can order off the medium-priced menu (as little or as much as they like) or just attend for the meeting portion. The program will include a talk on the state of archeology in the Victorian Age (not to imply that Barker is getting a bit long in the tooth) by our own vice president, Russell (Mimi DeMore), as well as a short survey of the Amelia Peabody stories about a feisty Victorian Egyptologist, presented by (who else?) our own Amelia Peabody (Recorder/Historian), Suzanne Snyder. A dash of Sherlockian music and part 2 of Bill Barton’s paper on the Victorian railroad (see this issue’s “Meeting Notes”), as well as Canonical toasts and a short business meeting, round out the day’s festivities. The meeting itself ends when all are fully sated. For anyone who simply can’t get enough Sherlockian fellowship (or Victorian atmosphere), however, after the meeting, those who wish to may join us at a local theater in viewing the movie The League of Extraordinary Gentleman, starring Sean Connery as H. Rider Haggard’s Victorian adventurer Allan Quatemain (with Mycroft Holmes as head of the British Secret Service), which opens on July 11 (provided, of course, that a local cinema close enough is showing the film at a time that’s convenient for us to attend). In any event, please plan to join us for our very first celebration of the birthday of the very first Hated Rival on the Surrey Shore: Barker! (For directions and other details, see the “Coming Meetings” section of this newsletter.)


Another Letter from Barker

                Well, it’s summer already, and we’ve successfully passed the year and a half mark in the lifetime of the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore, still Indianapolis’ newest — and, I daresay, most original — of Sherlockian scions. (And if you question the “most original” moniker, just check out our past newsletters, available on our Web site, for details about the wide variety in our meetings.) Of course, just because we are still new and fresh and try not to get stuck into rigid patterns in our meeting locations and programs doesn’t mean that we at all adverse to tradition. In fact, looking back at our past year and a half’s meetings, we see at least a couple that may become traditional — our Victorian Tea/Holmes Birthday celebration this year, for example. We see that as a viable tradition to establish for the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore in the future — just as we see our Barker Birthday celebration likely becoming a similar tradition. Other than those two, however, and perhaps their locations, we do plan on keeping our meeting content and location as varied as we can for the foreseeable future. (Of course, we’ll eventually run out of new Victorian locations to host our gatherings and need to return to former spots, but we’ll cross that viaduct when we come to it.)

Anyway, as we’ve mentioned before, we’re very open to any suggestions that you may have as to meeting locations and content. So make sure that you make your voices known to us so that we can remain as responsive as we can to your wishes. After all, we believe that a Sherlockian scion should always remain focused on the needs of its membership, both current and future, and never be turned into merely a private playground for its officers. We’re here for you, not just for us — and we hope you’ll be here, too.

                Now, on to the “meat” of this month’s letter (having already covered its “meet”) . . .

Barker’s Birthday

                Considering that fact that the Canon gives not even a hint of the date of birth of Mr. Barker — not in “The Retired Colourman” nor elsewhere — the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore do hereby declare July 12 to be the birthday of Barker, Holmes’ own Hated Rival upon the Surrey Shore. And by what authority do we make said declaration, you may ask? On what do we base our decision? (No, not on the frequency of occurrences of the name of any Shakespearean play — nor any other literary reference — in the story; and most certainly not on the basis of any astrological relationship between Barker and his sparsely described personality — a notion at which we’re certain Doyle, despite his quite sad lapse into the equally untenable deception of spiritualism, would have scoffed heartily.) Why, on no authority at all, of course. Just as the eminent Sherlockian Christopher Morely declared, by fiat, that January 6 was Holmes’ birthday, we’re following in that tradition by simply declaring July 12 to be Barker’s birthday. (Or course, as noted in Vol. 1, No. 3, of our newsletter, we’ve decided that January 5 is the correct date for Holmes’ birthday, based on later rationales for the January 6 date that weren’t quite on target, but that’s beside the point for now.)

                As we know of no other such declaration of date (and wouldn’t necessarily be at all beholden to it in any event), we feel secure in setting July 12 as Mr. Barker’s birthday — after all, no evidence exists to the contrary. (And the fact that your humble correspondent’s birthday happens to fall on the same date has, of course, nothing whatsoever to do with our decision.) So we hope that you’ll join us in this year’s first annual Barker Birthday celebration, as noted above, and in at least saluting Barker in future years on what is now his (un)official birthday — July 12 (which also happens to be Bill Cosby’s birthday, as any of you who remember his frozen snowball skit will know, although that, too, is quite beside the point.)

Watson’s “Errors” and the Alternate World Theory

                As most Sherlockians are aware, John H. Watson, M.D., biographer of Sherlock Holmes, was a prolific chronicler of the tales of the Master Sleuth of Baker Street. Unfortunately, as we also are aware, Watson was quite prone to errors in his stories (or was he . . . ?). For example, in “A Scandal in Bohemia,” Watson misidentified Mrs. Hudson, his and Holmes’ landlady, as “Mrs. Turner.” In other stories, he gave dates that were impossible, as he’d already recorded other cases or events that occurred at the same time, making one (or both) dates obviously incorrect. And he describes certain recorded cases in other stories in terms that fail to match how the same case appeared in the actual published tale. Sherlockians, clever sort that we are, have devised all sorts of explanations for these errors: In “Scandal,” perhaps, Mrs. Turner was merely filling in for an absent Mrs. Hudson, off on holiday or away for other reasons. The dating issue? Oh, Watson was merely being forgetful or misread his own notes or deliberately gave a false date, possibly to protect an important client or something of that nature. As for the differing case descriptions, well, Holmes may very well have worked on more than one case of the same basic name, hence the differences. (Eminent Sherlockian William S. Baring-Gould even postulated that Holmes worked on as many as three different “Second Stain” cases in his classic Annotated Sherlock Holmes.)

But what if none of these theories were actually the case? What if, in fact, Watson made no errors at all in his writings, but reported each case exactly as it occurred, when it occurred? But how could that be, you may ask? Well, what if there were more than one John H. Watson, M.D., reporting the cases of more than one Sherlock Holmes? An impossibility? Not if you subscribe to the Alternate World theory, which postulates the existence of many Earths, each with its own Holmes and Watson, and every one existing simultaneously at the same time and spatial location, but in different dimensions (or planes, if you will — especially for those who share Conan Doyle’s misguided belief in spiritualism), separated, perhaps, only by different vibratory frequencies (or other mechanisms — this is, after all, a theoretical construct).

                Impossible, you may claim! Mere science fiction, you may attest! Ah, but not anymore. For what was once found merely in the speculative realm of science fiction is now on the cutting edge of quantum physics. Many physicists now believe that the alternate or multiple universe concept may, in fact, be very real. No less a personality than the famed theoretical astrophysicist Stephen Hawking has postulated that the now accepted phenomenon of black holes may have a corresponding phenomenon, dubbed the white hole — which is actually an entry point into our reality from another universe (just as black holes may be exit points from our universe into another). Hawking has suggested that, eventually, almost anything that you can imagine — from benign visitors to H.P. Lovecraft’s dread Cthulhu — may emerge from a white hole and into our universe. Whether this is true or not may be debated among physicists, but most today do believe that, just as our universe was created in the theoretical “big bang,” at the very same time, multiple other universes may also have been created, ranging from universes that are very similar to ours to those that are quite alien. Another theory says that, with each decision any of us makes, a new universe is formed — one (ours) branches off from that point as we perceive it, and another one branches off in the opposite direction, taking the path that we (in our own universe) did not choose. So, if these theories are at all true, literally billions of universes could have been formed since the beginning of time, some of them nearly identical to ours, except for the slightest of variations . . . as in what a certain individual was doing on a certain date or who his landlady is. (This idea relates, of course, to the Schroedinger’s Cat theory, for those Sherlockians who are both physicists and cat lovers.)

                All right, but what has all this theorizing to do with the subject at hand: Watson’s errors? Well, as already suggested, what if Watson made no errors at all. What if these supposed errors were the result of the Holmes tales being written by not just one John H. Watson, M.D., but by two or three . . . or an infinite number of Watsons on infinite earths along the continuum of multiple universes — or a multi-verse? How could this be, even if the theory is correct? Two possibilities, depending on whether you accept that Watson was the actual author of the Holmes tales and Doyle the literary agent or that Doyle was the actual writer and Watson merely a character in the Canon (blasphemy, I know, but we must allow for the possibility, especially if we’re talking multiple alternate worlds, in some of which Watson was the actual author and, in others, Doyle). Those who’ve dealt with the alternate world theories (especially in the field of Fortean Phenomena) have also postulated that certain people, from time to time, have managed to slip from one universe to another — a theory to explain the many disappearances annually (for example, the crew of the Marie Celeste) or the appearance of strange people who don’t quite seem to fit in our world (such as the odd Casper Hauser). So what if — quite by chance — our own John H. Watson were one of these gifted individuals who can slip from one universe to the other, probably not even realizing it (especially if the two are particularly close in most events)? In fact, what if many Watsons throughout the multi-verse were able to do so? And so the Watson bringing a particular tale to his literary agent, Doyle, may not necessarily have been the same Watson who brought the tale or tales before . . .

                Such a possibility would readily explain why certain cases occurred on impossibly overlapping dates — the two cases were written by different Watsons following different Holmeses on different cases at the same time . . . in separate universes. Mrs. Turner? The Watson who wrote “A Scandal in Bohemia” was from a different earth than the one (or ones) who wrote the other tales in the Canon. And different Second Stains? Different cases of the same name . . . but in different universes. (And how about all those wives of Watson . . . or maybe I should say of the Watsons?)

                But what if Watson really is merely a fictional character in a series of fictional stories about a fictional detective written by the very real Arthur Conan Doyle? Was Doyle merely careless in his writings, jotting down dates and descriptions for what he considered literary potboilers, without an eye to or care for continuity? Perhaps. But what if, in another universe (or, more properly, several other universes), John H. Watson, M.D., was a real person who chronicled the very real adventures of the real Sherlock Holmes? A number of writers have claimed that their stories often came to them in dreams or out of the blue, as if they were simply writing down what was happening to other, real people . . . somewhere else. Although Doyle did not, to my knowledge, make such claims, perhaps he actually was zeroing in on actual deeds occurring in a parallel reality — where a very real Watson was writing up the actual cases of Sherlock Holmes in his dimension. Doyle, somehow, “tuned in” to Watson, converting the good doctor’s case reports into fiction — perhaps not even aware of what he was doing. (Although, if he were, that may explain his later lapse of judgment in believing in spiritualism, fairies, and the like — because he’d experienced a real phenomenon that he could not explain by the science of the day.) And if this were true, perhaps Doyle was tuning in on more than one Watson in more than one parallel reality. If so, that, too, would explain the discrepancies in detail in so many of Watson’s tales, just as if alternate Watsons were actually visiting Doyle with the latest Holmes adventure. (Ah, but the adventure of which Holmes?)

                Well, of course, this is all merely speculation. Not being a theoretical physicist (nor even a science fiction writer — other than, perhaps, in such ramblings as this), I cannot really comment on the validity of such theories or theoretical constructs. For now, they must be left in the realms of fiction and of quantum mechanics . . . and, of course, as we all know, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson were very real people in a very real Victorian Age, where it is always 1895 . . .

Addendum (with Errata)

Last issue, in the Holmes/Batman segment of my letter, I mentioned without any explanation two figures who, although undoubtedly well-known to followers of Victorian sensational literature, may not be as well-known to all readers: Spring-Heeled Jack and Sexton Blake. For the run-down on these fictional (and, in Jack’s case, semi-fictional) Victorians (as well as the very real Charles Babbage), see this issue’s “Victorian Trivia” section.

Regarding the relationship between Holmes and Batman, Hated Rival Bruce Coleman alerted me to yet another instance in which the two mythos (mythoses?) crossed paths. Batman’s arch-nemesis, the Joker, apparently had his own comic book for a brief run (titled, of course, The Joker), and it seems that Sherlock Holmes appeared in one issue of the book before its demise. Bruce didn’t recall the details of the encounter (which must have been quite bizarre), so if anyone else can fill us in, please do, and we’ll report on it in a future newsletter.

Looks as though that’s all for now. Hope to see you at our next meeting! (Note: Birthday presents are absolutely unnecessary, although your own presence will be greatly appreciated.) And don’t forget to check our Web site for several newly posted items! Till then, I remain, as always, ever yours . . .

                                                                                                                —C. Barker, Esq.


Meeting Notes

                Another dark and cloudy day failed to dampen the spirits of the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore as we gathered at the Indiana Transportation Museum, in Noblesville, for our May meeting. (In fact, except for the lack of fog, the cool, slightly breezy weather resembled nothing so much as Barker’s own England, as viewed from London’s Surrey Shore — quite refreshing and bracing.) After congregating in the park across the road from the museum, all in attendance voted to go ahead and enter its grounds, even for the nontour portion of the meeting, which we held at a picnic table within the facility. Because of additional opportunities opened up for us by our own VP, Mimi, we abbreviated that part of the meeting. Instead of his entire paper, “The Train-ing of Sherlock Holmes: The Railway in Victorian England,” Bill Barton read only part one, covering the railway history of England as a whole, leaving part two, covering London, as an addition to our next meeting. But any minor disappointment for the attendees was more than compensated for in our tour of the museum, as Mimi — a past volunteer worker at the site — secured admission for us into areas of the museum not normally open to the public. We got to view an old Pullman car owned by Tony George (of Indianapolis 500 fame), which was stored away in one of the site’s sheds, as well as the main work area, where volunteers were cutting apart an old, burnt-out train car for salvage and to make room to renovate an old steam locomotive (much like those that pulled the trains that Holmes and Barker rode in the 19th century). In addition to our exclusive sights, we also journeyed through the regular exhibits, getting just a taste of what life was like on the old railroads, even up until the mid-20th century. Those who chose to take the train ride to Atlanta, Indiana, got another special treat: Thanks to Mimi’s connections, we were privileged to ride up in the engine, along with the engineer and flagman, on the trip out! Returning to the museum, we checked out a few more exhibits and even climbed up and into several open cabooses on a side track. On leaving the museum grounds, those still hungering for more Sherlockian fellowship (as well as food) adjourned to Eddie’s Café, in central Noblesville, for further gastronomical and social edification. All in all, another successful soirée for the Hated Rivals on the Surrey Shore.


Victorian Trivia

                As noted in this issue’s “Letter from Barker,” in our last issue, I made a couple references that fall under the category of Victorian trivia. As not all readers may be familiar with them, I thought I’d take this issue’s “Victorian Trivia” section to elucidate. So who (or what?), you may wonder, were Spring-Heeled Jack and Sexton Blake? Read on (for an extended tour of Victorian trivia) . . .

                Starting in 1837 and running at irregular intervals throughout the 19th century, various people in and around London (and elsewhere) were assaulted by a strange, cloaked (and some say masked) figure who spit flames from his mouth and leaped over high walls and onto roofs to escape. A few women were also attacked with some kind of claws that the figure wore (or bore), and some testified that the man (or demon, as some thought him) had oddly protruding, almost hypnotic, eyes as well. The sensational press of the day began first referring to the assailant as a “springald,” meaning a jumping-jack, a term that evolved into the name by which this figure is generally still know today: Spring-Heeled Jack. (The latter from the supposition that the culprit used powerful springs in the heels of his boot to enable his superhuman leaps.) Like his later namesake, Jack the Ripper, this Jack was never caught, and after his last assumed appearance in Liverpool, in 1904, vanished into history. Peter Haining, in his book The Legend and Bizarre Crimes of Spring-Heeled Jack, postulates for numerous reasons that the original Jack was probably the Marquis of Waterford (who had protruding eyes, just as in Jack’s early appearances, and who wore a crest with a W, which one witness claimed to have seen on Jack). As the Marquis died in the 1850s, however, others must have carried on the tradition afterward (assuming, of course, that some of Jack’s later sightings weren’t just the result of suggestion or hysteria). Spring-Heeled Jack’s legacy lived on in the penny dreadfuls of the era (crude bound broadsheets that sold for a penny and provided lurid accounts of popular characters from both fiction and real-life — equivalent to the dime novels of 19th century America). These serials portrayed Jack variously as a monster, a clever villain, and sometimes even as an early superhero. (In some drawings, Jack was even portrayed as having batwings — or wearing a cloak that resembled them; hence his mention in the Batman/Holmes essay in the last issue of our newsletter.)

                Sexton Blake, on the other hand, was purely fictional. He began his literary career as a mostly unremarkable London detective in a series of stories that appeared in the 1890s. Sometime before the turn of the century, however, Blake began to evolve into a somewhat different character than he started out as. He moved to Baker Street, for one thing, became much more cerebral in his methods, and physically began to bear a startling resemblance to another Baker Street detective that we all know and love. And yet, Blake was more than a rip-off of Sherlock Holmes. His adventures were quite unique — often far more fantastical than those of Holmes — and his rogues’ gallery grew into one of the most impressive in all popular fiction. Blake’s adventures continued well into the 20th century, and he became quite a well-known hero of the pulp fiction of the day — in fact, perhaps only Nick Carter had a more varied and lengthy career than did Blake. Sadly, none of Blake’s adventures remain in print today (at least as far as I could find), and although he could in some ways be considered a “poor man’s Sherlock Holmes,” Sexton Blake remains one of the most colorful detectives in literature. (For much more info about Blake, check out The Sexton Blake Page on the Web, at www.geocities.com/jessnevins/blake.html.)

                The reference to Charles Babbage’s analytical engine may also have thrown some readers not so familiar with early Victorian engineering. Charles Babbage (1791-1871) was an English inventor who, in 1821, invented a device for compiling mathematical tables that he called the Difference Engine — although he didn’t complete it until 1832, at which time he conceived an idea for an even better calculating machine, the Analytical Engine, the plans for which he finished in 1856. Babbage built a prototype of his Difference Engine, but funding for the device was withdrawn by the British government in 1842. Babbage never did manage to construct a prototype Analytical Engine, but in 1854, a Swedish printer named George Scheutz, using Babbage’s designs, constructed a Difference Engine that was subsequently used by both the British and American governments. Babbage’s calculating engines are now recognized as the genesis of today’s computers. (Interestingly, a relatively recent science-fiction genre, known as steampunk, frequently uses Babbage’s devices as a jumping-off point for postulating the addition of post-19th century technology into the Victorian era.) For more information, type “Charles Babbage” into your favorite Internet search engine.

                Bonus trivia: Wax vestas were what waterproof matches were called in Victorian England. See the first entry below in “I Hear of Sherlock Everywhere!” for the connection.


I Hear of Sherlock Everywhere!

Out for a few years, but only recently obtained, is the excellent Canonical Compendium, by Stephen Clarkson (and the late Bill Fleischauer), published by Canada’s Calabash Press in 1999. (So, in spite of recent international relations, some good still has come out of Canada ….) I did detect some typos (the page number for the Topical Category of Games is missing in the TOC) and a few odd choices for some of the listings. (“Wax vestas,” for example, is listed as an occupation, whereas “Seller of wax vestas” was the actual occupation of Hugh Boone, the alter ego of Neville St. Clair, in “The Man With the Twisted Lip.”) But otherwise, I heartily recommend the book for all Sherlockians who can afford its $45 price tag.

Those looking for reruns of the John Doe TV series with the Sherlockian/Victorian references that we’ve mentioned in past newsletters may, sadly, be out of luck. The series was indeed canceled (and after a cliff-hanger season finale!), and so far, the Fox network has been running movies and reruns of other series in its time slot rather than reruns of Doe. If the situation changes, however, we’ll let you know.

Sadly, Sherlock Holmes was not named as one of the top 50 screen heroes of all time (nor was Moriarty named as one of the top 50 villains) in the American Film Institute’s TV special, AFI’s 100 Years …100 Heroes and Villains, which aired on CBS in early June. On the other hand, actor Basil Rathbone (who, of course, played Holmes in the films of the late ’30s, early ’40s) did appear as the villain in film clips of The Mark of Zorro and The Adventures of Robin Hood for those two heroes, so the show wasn’t a total loss for Sherlockians.

According to a press release, the East Haddam Historical Society is celebrating the second season of its exhibit, “Honoring William Gillette,” at its museum on Route 82 in Connecticut, not far from the site of Gillette’s renovated castle. Gillette was, of course, the actor and playwright who wrote and starred in the play Sherlock Holmes early last century. The exhibit reopened on May 30 and continues till October 13. A nearby theatre will also present Gillette’s play from July 2 to 19. So if you are planning a trip to the New England area this summer or early autumn, you may want to stop by. For information, contact the society at P.O. Box 27, East Haddam, CT 06423-0027; 860-873-3944; for the play, call 860-767-8348. (Or send us a SASE for a photocopy or, if you’re local, your fax number for a fax of the info.)

Closer to home — but not lasting as long — is an exhibit at the Newberry Library in Chicago, “Sir Arthur Conan Doyle: Beyond Sherlock Holmes,” which runs through July 12. Hours are 8:15 a.m. to 5:30 p.m., Monday, Friday, and Saturday, and 8:15 a.m. to 7:30 p.m., Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and admission is free. (The Library is closed July 4.) For more information, contact the library at 60 W. Walton St., Chicago, IL 60610-7324; 312-255-3700; or check its Web site at www.newberry.org.

Those who enjoy Victorian-era gaming, especially games with Sherlockian ties, whether role-playing, board games, or miniatures, have much to look forward to in this year’s GenCon Game Fest, one of the country’s two major annual game conventions. For the first time ever, GenCon is being held right here in Indianapolis this year, at the Convention Center downtown, July 24-27. Among the games with a Victorian theme being run at this year’s convention is a four-hour role-playing event called “Cool Zulus By Gaslight,” run by our own Bill Barton, which plunks players from our time down in Victorian London — where they must attempt to find their way back through time on their own. The event uses Bill’s easy-to-learn (and play) role-playing system from his So Ya Wanna Be A Rock ’N’ Roll Star! A Rock ’N’ Role-Playing Game, and runs the Friday evening of the convention, from 5 to 9 p.m. For registration and event information, go to www.gencon.com. For info about Bill’s game itself, check out Bill’s Web site, which is at http://bill-barton-games.iwarp.com. (Admission for one day, by the way, is $23 at the door.)

For fans of fantastical Victorian literature in general and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen in particular: Jess Nevin’s Heroes & Monsters: The Unofficial Companion to the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, a 232-page trade paperback ($18.95) published by Monkeybrain, Inc., and due in July. Not only does it include Nevin’s analysis of Volume 1 of the series, identifying all the embedded Victorian and other references, but also an introduction by author Alan Moore, commentary by artist Kevin 0’Neill, and essays about the main characters and their creators. Available from www.monkeybrainbooks.com, Amazon.com, and most bookstores. And check out Nevin’s Web site for notes on Volume 2 and related LEG items, at www.geocities.com/athens/olympus/7160/league1.html.


Coming Meetings!

                Following are the details of our upcoming meeting, plus the dates and tentative information about our remaining meetings for 2003. (Check our Web site or our Indianapolis Star Web page for updates.) So set these dates aside to join the Hated Rivals at the following soirées:

A Barker Birthday Party!

Saturday, July 12, 2003, starting at 1:30 p.m.

Lord Ashley’s Pub & Eatery

Corner of Pendleton Pike and Oaklandon Road

Indianapolis, Indiana

Directions and Details: Take I-465 to the Pendleton Pike exit on the east side of Indianapolis. Go north on Pendleton Pike, past German Church Road (a stoplight, just past the new Wal-Mart on the right). Continue on until you see the next stoplight, which is Oaklandon Road. Just before you reach the stoplight, turn right into the corner mall, where you’ll find Lord Ashley’s facing the northeast. Plan on arriving between 1 p.m. and 1:30 p.m. and ordering at 1:30 (from the menu and separate checks). On arrival, just ask for the Hated Rivals party, or, if no one is at the door, turn immediately to the left and continue until you reach our room. Following the meal, which is sure to include lively discussions, the program will feature talks on Victorian archeology and about the Amelia Peabody stories, part 2 of the Victorian railway talk, Sherlockian music, Canonical toasts, and more great Sherlockian fellowship. (Note: Please let us know via e-mail or snail mail by Wednesday, July 9, if you plan to attend, because seating in the restaurant’s meeting room that we’ve reserved is limited, and if we exceed that number, we’ll need to request its larger room for the meeting.)

And mark your calendar for these great upcoming meetings . . .

Saturday, September 13: A Canonical Cookout

Saturday, November 8: Mayhem, Menace, and Moriarty!

Sunday, January 4, 2004 (tentative): A Victorian Tea, Reprised!


For more information, contact us at P.O. Box 26290, Indianapolis, IN 46226-0290; or send us e-mail at postmaster@surrey-shore.freeservers.com or at rivalrussell@hotmail.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 in two months, back on the ol’ Surrey Shore, where the game’s always afoot!