Sept 11, 1918.
Hope you will excuse this paper as I don't keep a very extensive stock here. The inspector was here for a while to-day as we have been very much upset. Only had school two days last week, the caretaker was off on a drunk "over the river," the sewer was plugged up, the trustees hired a girl with a Third, and of course Mr. Carefoot won't let her teach. So he has had quite a time straightening things up. I have 41 Jr III and 5 Sr II. Could you imagine a worse mix-up?
Was at the Parsonage for lunch and it happened that Helen was to be away for lunch to-day so it was just the right day.
The sulphide dept. of the nearest paper mill is in full blast and it smells like a combination of brine, coffee, sulphur and wash day. But it is mild compared to when the Rubber Works smells up, which fortunately only happens once in so often.
We see no end of airplanes these days, the other day I saw seven at once. One night a Merritton boy came over and "performed", he turned somersaults and stood his machine on its nose and on its tail and every other way possible. We could see him quite plainly and let our dinner get stone cold as we watched.
I hope you are not overdoing yourself. I did not like your looks at all on Labor Day. Be careful not to get into too much. You are in my thoughts very often these days and I always pray for you. But as some war poet says:
"We know the sacrifice, the pain
We know the loss, but not the gain
Of those who sleep in Flanders."