(Postmarked October 11th, 1917)
My dear Myron:
I’ve just finished writing a long letter to Aunt Jennie and as you know I’m not as good a hand at the writing business as you are you mustn’t be surprised at any mistake I make. I’ve nearly got writer’s cramp already.
What have you been doing all day? Ransom took his mother, Florence, Donald, and I out to church. This after noon he has taken this hired man and his wife, Ruth, Roy and Louise up to West Hartford to Mrs. Ballard’s folks. You know we attend the Episcopal church and there was a large class confirmed there today. Who do you suppose was among them? Jim Flack — you remember him don’t you? But you don’t remember his biting a piece out of John’s hat. That was before your time. He used to visit us a good deal but the boys didn’t like him and used to torment him all they could. One Sunday he was there and went to church with Bert and John. On the way home I suppose John was up to his old tricks and he got Jim so mad that he turned around and bit a chunk out of John’s new hat. Wasn’t John mad though when he got home — but he didn’t get any sympathy from our folks. I never see that fellow without thinking of that.
Did you get that big wind Friday? It struck us between five and six o’clock and while it lasted three or four minutes we realized it had been here when it was over. It took the chimneys off the kitchen and the tenant house through one of the windows and tipped the silo slick and clean over. The south side of the silo alley half way up in the garden. Ralph Smith’s and Will Robertson’s silos are both down. In fact, it did lots of damage all over although there was streaks it didn’t touch at all. Something like that other wind storm five years ago.
I saw John and Edith just a minute the morning. They looked just as nice as ever and John had a big white carnation in his buttonhole — this is Mother’s Day you know. I didn’t have a carnation to wear so wore a white narcissus instead.
Ransom and I went to Glens Falls last evening to do some shopping and just as we got in the edge of the city — where those nice residences are — we heard something go z-i-i-i-p — and there we were with a nice blow out in that old front tire of ours so we had the pleasure of shopping and changing our tire right there. It’s the first time I’ve happened to be along on an occasion of that kind but I suppose it’s something we all have to get used to.
What do you know about the Officer’s Training Camp? I’m very anxious to hear.
Rejoice with me! We have our oats all sowed and the house cleaning partly done. As to the house cleaning, it will never be anything but “partly done” for when I get to the end the beginning will be ready to be done again. But — I should worry.
I am going to entertain the Adamsville branch of the Red Cross Wednesday afternoon. As there is never more than five at meetings I Wednesday afternoon. As there is never more than five at meetings I don’t know as it can be called a “branch” — more of a twig perhaps.
Did you get my doughnuts and could you eat them? I wasn’t very proud of those but it was the best I had and I was bound to send some thing so I sent them along and just hoped you wouldn’t have to feed them to the dog.
Well I think you must be tired of this and I know my head is entirely empty. Here’s hoping I’m going to see you again soon.
Yours as ever
Bert’s folks have a new DAUGHTER arrive at 6:30 this morning. You see it’s still “up to you”. (ed.This would have been Myrtle, the fifth daughter of Bert and Grace)
(Clipping attached to letter: )
The best monument that a child can raise to his mother’s memory is that of a clean, upright life, such as she would have rejoiced to see her son live.
(note underneath: )
When I read this I thought “what a splendid monument Myron is our Mother’s teachings”
THE ROOKIES’ LAMENT
No more ham and eggs or grapefruit
When the bugle blows for “chow;”
No more apple pie or dumplings,
For we’re in the army now,
And they feed us beans for breakfast
And at noon we have ’em, too,
And a night they fill our tummies
With a good old army stew.
No more fizzes, beer of highballs
When we’ve got an awful thirst:
If you’re thinking of enlisting;
Best get use to water first,
For the lid’s on tight all over,
And the drilling makes us warm.
But we can’t cool off with liquor
‘Cause we wear the uniform.
No more shirts of silk and linen:
We all wear the O.D. stuff.
No more nightshirts or pajamas,
For our pants are good enough.
No more feather ticks or pillows,
But we’ve go to thank the Lord
That we’ve got a cot and blanket
When we might have just a board.
For they feed us beans for breakfast
And at noon we have ’em too
And at night they fill our tummies
With a good old army stew,
But, by jinks, we’ll lick the Kaiser
When the sergeants teach us how,
For, hang him, he’s the reason
That we’re in the army now.
PVT, E.L. Mosher