4th Univ. Co. P.P.C.L.I.
St. Martin's Plain
Shorncliffe
March 3, ‘16

Dear Edna:

Again, I have tons of your letters to answer. They always seem to come in bunches after a long wait. The one dated the 6th reached me on the 28th just 23 days afterward you see and then the one dated the 13th came March 1st - the next day.

I am still in quarantine and am risking it again, for I like to write to you, I must admit. I always get such newsy replies. I must thank you very much for the clippings. We were all interested in reading them. I sent them on to Crawford and Hawthorne after we had read them here. Oh, by the way, Hawthorne is quarantined too, now. We had the laugh on him yesterday when we came home from a long walk and found him a companion in misery. There are now 3 of our huts quarantined, about 100 men in all.

The snapshot is very nice. I don't know what objection to the expression you should have. You certainly look cheerful enough. It seems like other days to see your face again. I hope I may soon see the original. Yes, I shall certainly be on the lookout for that photo you promised me and I know it will keep the bullets back for no one who had any regard for a pretty little girl would dare to punch a hole through it.

Although we are quarantined we are having a very good time. We get up just in time for breakfast and fold our blankets afterwards. Then we sit down for a couple of hours and read, after which we fall in at 9 o'clock, and go for a walk. We walk for 3 hours steadily and do between 9 and 10 miles. It is very easy compared to a route march for we do not carry any packs or rifles.

In the afternoon, if the weather is fine enough, we go out again at 2.30 and walk up on a hill about 2 miles from here and do some running, jumping and physical drill for an hour, after which we come home and are through for the day. It has parades and drill beaten a mile. Of course the only drawback is the fact that we cannot get out around the camp or away to town.

I think I told you we had a real Canadian snow storm lately. It certainly came down alright and on some of the roads we went out on the next day there were drifts 4 or 5 feet deep. That is nothing compared to what you have though, is it? You certainly had quite a time getting home that Saturday night the cars were stuck didn't you? I hope your ear has fully recovered. It is very painful after it thaws out alright. I would enjoy those snow shoe tramps very much. I used to do quite a lot of it last winter. I don't remember you being out though. Perhaps you just started this year.

We have some great old concerts in our hut these nights. We get a big fire going, then set all the benches around it and sing all the songs we know, listen to recitations and young speeches, violin solos, flute selections and anything else that happens to have a pleasant sound to it—not forgetting the humble mouth organ. Did you ever read Services's poem on the mouth organ. I often think of it as I hear it played when nothing better is available. We have some really good singers and violin players in the company.

One fellow in our hut recites Drummond's French-Canadian poems to perfection. We like to get him started. He is very modest and it sometimes takes a good deal of urging but once he gets going the characteristic French-Canadian love of excitement keeps him going.

We have a pair of boxing gloves and we keep them going. I think boxing is one of the best forms of exercise possible. It is funny to look around the hut and see black-eyes and bruised faces everywhere. Of course they do not hurt but it looks as though there had been a battle. My own lips are puffed up a bit, Steve has patch on his nose, Brown has a black-eye, and everyone else is battered up in some shape or other. But we are learning to box anyway, which is the objective we are after.

I was really surprised to hear you say what you did about smoking. I was expecting a real good calling down, but you seem to realize that where everybody smokes, it is almost pardonable to fall in line. I may say however that before I heard from you I had decided not to smoke anymore until I get to the trenches, just for fear I might get too fond of it, so Steve and Brown will have all the cigars that come before we leave for France.

So you think you are pretty nearly grown up do you? You think you are at least as old as I am. You do not realize what a mature age I have reached. The nerve of some people! Yes, I think you will grow up yet.

Do you keep a diary? I think you must, for you certainly get more news than I could ever get at College. Of course when I wrote home I always had to leave a lot out, but I am so well posted this year, that I could tell anyone pretty well what had been going on at the M.A.C. even though I am five or six thousand miles away. I have to thank you for it.

I have been very much interested in the debates so far. M.A.C. has certainly done well. May they keep it up!

I was glad to see that another ‘15 man is joining the army. Danielson was one I had not thought would come. By spring there will probably be several others.

Yes, my cold has improved very much lately. Plain living and high thinking - naturally.

You are lucky to escape the measles. I guess you are like myself - immune. I lived among measles and mumps there for five years and always escaped so I think I shall hardly take them here.

I have had lots of time for reading lately and about a dozen books and a couple of dozen magazines have passed through my mind. Most of them were only of the passing moment variety. However, I read three of Gene Stratton-Porter's "The Harvester", "At the [?] of the Rainbow", and "Laddie". I have read all her other books. I suppose you have read them too. I find them very interesting. The touches of nature that are contained in them appeal to me. I am afraid I am doomed to remain a lover of the outdoor world. I like to get out among the hills and woods and watch the streams, the green grass, the crops and stock of the farms. If I were to dwell any further on the beauty of rural England, you would think I am completely gone, but since the snow has come and gone the yellow primroses are shooting up all along the roads and among the trees, and make things more beautiful than ever. Won't you come with me for a walk tomorrow and see if you don't fall in love with it too? If I manage to escape that bullet your picture is to stop, I shall surely see more of the country. Of course I would not want to live here, but for a holiday, nothing I have ever seen can equal it.

I am anxious to hear about your play. I am sure you would make a neat little maid. Oh! I must not say too much for you say you do not do everything perfectly, that I must know you better before I say that. Well, I am ready and anxious to know you better alright but I won't promise to change my opinion.

I shall be looking for those snaps, and I think I shall have one or two ready next time I write. You are certainly looking well and that smile is as evident and fascinating as ever.

Till next time,

Sincerely
Dick

P.S. I have just heard that 70 of our company are going to France on Tuesday among them Crawford.