Viewing page 39 of 45

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

got up he mentioned that my coat was some what [[strikethrough]] sil [[/strikethrough]] soiled, my smock is working.  Timmie thinks he is a genius and he scraps all other teachers by word of mouth.  There never was an Irishman that could beat him talking.
St. Patricks day donned cloudy and quite Green.  Irish Coleen, waited on every corner to sell togs; to help the poor Irish.  I told them I wasn't Irish and did'nt buy any.  Why don't they have a Scotch day.  The togs were a design of shamrock and an orange [[strikethrough]] son [[/strikethrough]] sun.  I suppose the

Monday eve.
[MARCH 20, 1917]

Dear ma,
I don't feel well tonite.  I seem to have a bad stomach.  I'll quit eating so much.
Now about my clothes.  My coat is dirty and my pants are in fair condition.  I need a new suit, or else wear my good one.  My old blue coat is all gone to pieces.  I would like to make my clothes last till I can get a new suit later.