Original Letter


                        December 11th 1917.


My Dearest Maidie:-

Another day sans excitement is well on the way to being finished. Out here I want the time to fly as I find the time hangs very heavy. Not that I haven’t plenty to do but there isn’t the snap and go about it that there is forward and thats Gods truth too when you come right down to it. The mail is either late or there isn’t any and everything is all right. Well, why not? But at the same time I am not a bit happy or contented. I want you! So there! And I do not intend ever to be the least bit until I am with you pour toujours. I didn’t intend to tell you but I never am the tiniest bit satisfied away from you, gol durn it. You have just taken every bit of me for your own and now you are so necessary to me that I can’t carry on alone. But in the meantime I just must manage somehow or other. But all the same its trieste.

Voulez-vous promenades, avec moi ce soir

Souvenir, cigarette, confiture bully beef.

This is the popular song at present. There is ever so much else to it some of it good – and some of it questionable. There is a chap living here who has just been invalided out of the army and has a job in the mine. A cousin came home “en permission” and the two have been swizzled for the last three days. I don’t think that he remembers where he was working. The cousin is a hard headed copper bottomed soak and I think that Madame here will be very glad to see the last of him.

Did I tell you that Holmes had written to friend Constanty? I hope that it was a perfectly clever letter as I hope to hear that Connie is bien pleased with her Canadian correspondent.

Just before I close I want to snuggle down into your arms and tell you that I adore you with all my heart and all my soul and all that in me is – whatever that last is I don’t know – no good, I’ll bet. Would you listen, Dearest?

            Your own Ross