ABSTRACT
In his last year as an undergraduate, 1928, Wystan had a tiny volume of his poems printed, by Spender on a hand press, only forty copies, for one of which I faithfully subscribed. Carpenter says that I was ‘made to pay’ – but I was only too glad to do so, do my duty to help a coming young poet who was a friend. It must have contained some of the poems Wystan had read to me. I cannot now tell, for I lent the little brochure to a young protégé, who disappeared. So did the book, a collector’s piece now worth thousands.
