The continuing exploits of Mr. Finnegan as he conquers the world with his cuteness.

Oh Yes?

I have been spending much of my free time, such as it is, perusing an excellent library of arctic fiction provided for my education and amusement by my parents. As you may observe in the photograph above, I enjoy the hands-on approach to my reading, grabbing the polar bear by the nose, so to speak, and tugging the story right off of the pages.

In my reading I have found stories that make one cry, and stories that make one laugh. I much prefer the latter.

That was a good one!

Here you can see me telling a rousing tale to my pet hedgehog, Spiny Norman, and then laughing heartily at his witty rejoinder. Such times we have. And then I find my toes, and all is lost for the next 15 minutes. And what toes are these?

What lovely toes!

It is so nice to be able to sit on ones own and enjoy a good book, toe, or hedgehog, is it not?

A gentleman should endeavor to cultivate a warm, hearty, and fulsome laugh that is pleasing to the ear, welcoming to the eye, and inviting to the onlooker giving them the irresistible desire to join in the merriment. A winning laugh should be both manly and childlike, filled with youthful abandon and yet fully under the control of its master. In many situations a good hearty laugh can do the work of a thousand witty and politic words, paving the way for friendships, alliances, and even matrimonial bonds. In short, it is a gentleman’s duty to bring forth this healthy outbursting of mirth as it is the duty of a fountain to bring forth the bubbling waters of the spring.

For your edification I have produced here a sampling of my own deep, hearty, and fully manful laugh. Listen and learn.

In order to develop this well formed laughter I employ the device of an amusing animal, in this case Maisy my dog, who does great frolic with an empty paper bag. What dolorous soul could not be soon amused by her frisky antics? And also, who is it who can resist the infection of my well-practiced laugh and thus begin the inescapable paroxysms of the hearty guffaw. I dare say that the answer is “none”.