H.R.H. The DUKE OF KENT

I must confess to having something of a soft spot for abbreviations and for what I think are called acronyms. I suppose a good many years' familiarity with all those mellifluous military condensations like ‘tpt.’ for transport and ‘arty.’ for artillery rather tended to form a habit, but I find them useful and practical, in moderation. Nevertheless, when first confronted with your own acronymic title, I was a little puzzled. The immediate expectation conjured up by those five letters was of a pretty uninhibited, trendy outfit—perhaps some sort of a night club even—at any rate whose purpose was rather indefinite. This was encouraging but I had to admit I could think of no reason why such a liberated body should want me to be their President, except that it seemed to have its headquarters in the house where I was born, which perhaps was a good enough reason. And then of course the sight of Lord Shackleton's name at the bottom of the letter instantly removed all doubts about the Association's standing, although it was still some little while before I was able to understand precisely what Aslib meant.