In ten years I have answered three letters, and here is what they had

Three letters in ten years. I have read hundreds and answered three, and since the men here keep asking what the difference was, I will tell you. Not one of the three told me what he wanted. All three told me about a week of his own life in enough detail that I could picture the man having it.

Fifty one, the northern quarter, nineteen years leading, two arrangements of eight and four years.

One wrote about his father's shed and what he had done with the tools in it. One wrote about being the man at work everybody hands the awkward job to, and why he rather likes that. One wrote about a route he has walked through this city every Sunday for eleven years and what has closed along it. Not a word about arrangements in any of them until the final paragraph.

What all three had in common was the same thing underneath: here is a man with a life, who would like somebody in charge of part of it. That is a completely different proposition from a man with an empty week hoping to have it filled.

What I want is a long domestic arrangement. Standing duties, a fixed day, a man who becomes part of how a household runs. Nothing here is for hire and no money moves in any direction, which I state once and will not discuss again. What I do not want is a letter that argues for you. Tell me about a Sunday.