152 University
Kingston, Ont.
Thursday [27 July 1950]

Dearest Vi & Claire:

Your letters and cards have been coming in regularly but what happened to mine. I sent two to Washington c/o General Delivery but your card from Williamsburg said you did not receive anything from me. I sent the first one regular mail as I felt sure that it would get there first as I wrote on Saturday. Then the next by air. I hope you get this – just to say how d'ya do? like hearing a voice.

I am so glad that you are having a good time – and what scenery you are passing through. I am quite prepared to believe that Washington is, as Claire says – the most beautiful city in the world – a big claim indeed.

I mentioned yesterday in my card that I had started my Refresher, and fortunately, it is just the size I hoped for – close to 20. And I had a very pleasant surprize. When the class was finished a man came up that looked to me to [be] a Newfoundlander. Why he should look so it is hard to describe – but there he was. He had come up specially from Montreal, where he and his wife live, to attend the course. He was none other than Scammell – the author of the Squid Jiggin' Groun'. He had also composed two or three other rough salt water ballads just as rough and tough as the Squid one, had them all set to music by himself and then put on gramophone records. I told Jack Vincent about him and we are all going to Jack's house on Sunday night to hear them played. Scammell hasn't a gramophone and is glad to find a place where they can be played. Miss Winspear is coming too. Scammell put himself through three years at McGill on the royalties from the disks. He looks like Walter Knight, talks like him, and acts like him – our carpenter Walter.

I suppose you will be leaving tomorrow or next day. When you said Friday did you mean as soon as that – this week. If so, I wonder if this air mail will reach you.

Love to the both of you.
Ned.