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the snow thru the dry leaves with a sound as if it were sand and [[strikethrough]] nipping [[/strikethrough]] nips the ears of those who are bold as it did mine for venturing to the high places.

My rheumatism seems to have left me so I will go out among the dancing flakes and make music with my saw.

Perhaps Margaret will bring me a letter in exchange for this one.  She is waiting so goodbye my love.  Greet the babies for from me and any of the others that may be at Trenchard St. i.e. the old folks.

Dasburg.