47 Glencairn Ave
Monday a.m. [7 Dec. 1953]
We are planning a Christmas dinner which will make your Thanksgiving affair look like a seal-flipper stew cooked on a Greenland glacier. There will be no cheese soufflés by the way I have other culinary plans in my mind, assisted of course in execution by your mother's intentions.
So the Slaughter House book is out. I am a little vague about both title and contents. Is Slaughter house a nickname for a phase of the meat-packing industry? Or is it a nickname without any other meaning than that it nearly killed you in editing it? Or is Slaughter the name of a man, and house added just as we might add the word to a famous man, e.g. the Osler or Churchill book? These are incidental things to you of course, but to me they are of paramount significance.
Mother is just shouting out not to forget to ask you if you need more envelopes for your Christmas cards. If you do, she can easily get them at Wesley Buildings.
Last night we had supper at the Daykins with the MacLarens and the Harknesses. Most of the conversation afterwards consisted of Newfoundland stories particularly the one relating to the action of Sir Humphrey Walwyn pouring a bottle of screech down the throat of a salmon most edifying!
Glad you heard from the Bushes at last. Doug wrote me recently that they tried to locate you but found it difficult.
We are getting our Xmas cards out in time how about a hundred enveloped and stamped. That eases the rush around the '20s.
Cheese soufflé to you.