An IPOAT Ball in honour of days of yore and yon mighty Maiden Juice

[Hullygully]

Shall we?

Now now, there is no need for giddiness.

Are the snoods ready Miss Farewell? I hear the clip clop of the cavalry at the end of the drive. Dear General Papillon-ffeatherstone-Haugh promised to look in on us, quick gels, don your snoods, keep your eyes cast down and titter into your handkerchiefs.

Sorry but I don't approve of tatting, for balls or otherwise.

I have come over all faint. Does my poetry-reading older man approach? I fear the snoods got in a bit of tangle but I have separated them as best I could and have brushed off the worst of the under-bureau dirt. I think we may have to have words with the under maid as it really was frightful under there.

Miss Mintyy pray what will you do with your snood if you don't like tatting?

The thudding hooves are bringing on my tinnitus.

Would you be so kind as to bring me a mint julep?

Mes cheres! it has been tooooooooo long! I bring fancies, furbeloughs and frivilous toiletry items fresh from Paris!

The Prince Regent's regiment follows closely! They have set up camp on the village green, and were polishing their muskets heartily as I drove past!

I believe the dear General is partial to a haiku, Miss Farewell, perhaps you may engage him with syllables?

I shall engage him with syllabubs.

Not too much sherry in them this time Madame. The countess was not pleased with her boys last time.

Alas, I am insufficiently well bred to attend the glittering IPOAT ball, so I have disguised myself as a maidservant in order to spy on proceedings.

Unfortunately Mr Rochester seems to have taken a shine to me and keeps calling me upstairs to adjust his leg

Sherry spectacles will be needed by the dear general if he is to overlook this oh so dreadful tatting mania

Okay, I give up. What does IPOAT mean?

A Long Established Tradition of Humerous Threads Featuring Feisty Ladies and a Succession of Unfortunate Heros.

Insane People On A Thread.

Oh do stop fretting, Honey dear, and grate some lemon zest!

My snood is slipping
Scorched curls are revealed beneath
I am unworthy

Oh, that is not a haiku that the dear General will like. I will try harder.

How dare you malign Mr Rochester thus!

He is downstairs for a start, here in the ballroom and he would let no one touch his leg but me his dear beloved and helpmeet. Huh, the idea.

We will need more than syllabubs, Mimi, we will need flagons from Fids' shed. Where is Madame Fids?

Miss Hully did you ask for syllables or syllabubs? I fear this is all too overwhelming.

Gentlemen like humility and modesty, Miss Farewell dear, but I think such abasement is a step too far. It smacks of the masochism dear Dr Freud keeps banging on about

It is all too much. I am retiring to my boudoir. Send up the maid with a refreshing tissane and call for me when dinner is to be served.

Dear Dr Freud, how I love to sit upon his knee and run my dainty fingers through his silken beard...