This मचिने.

This machine has been playing me up lately. It has suddenly (and for no reason that I can work out) developed a predilection for writing in Hindi. I say that I don't know why this has occurred, but I strongly suspect that the cause is an attack of pure swank on the machine's part. Could it be, you may think, that the machine just got bored with my mundane English, and developed a desire to show me what it could do ? Well, you may be right, but in that case, why didn't it go for something a bit less exotic ? French maybe, or latin (giving us a sporting chance of understanding in part). But Hindi !!!! No, as I said before, pure swank. This has been going on for some days now, so I have been unable to give details of everyday life in Suffolk. The details of why, at an at home last Saturday, I found myself declaiming, with another poetry enthusiast, the tragedy of The little one eyed idol to the North of Khatmandu, are now lost to posterity, or why later the same evening, by popular request, I was obliged to give details of the Ramsbottom family's adventure usually refered to as Albert and the Lion. All lost because this machine refused to record things in a sensible English script. I think I've sorted it to some extent, but anyway, on Thursday my good friend Craig (our local computer tamer) is going to come in and give it what for, and generally make it behave. Well, that's geiven it fair warning! SO THERE!!!