47 Glencairn Ave
Toronto 12, Canada
Friday am. [29 Jan. 1954]
Poss just telephoned to say that George Harris passed away yesterday. He had been sick for years as you know, practically bed-ridden, and Lottie's stroke made it hard for her to give him the attention required. Poss doesn't know what Lottie's plans are. I suppose she will stay in Grand Bank where most of her friends are, paying occasional visits to St John's governed of course by her health. That will be her problem for the next few weeks and months. We had been expecting this outcome for a long time.
Your Boston snow struck us the day before yesterday the biggest fall for the year. It snowed for a solid 24 hours, but fortunately we have a man who does the shovelling. He does it for the estate. That is one important advantage over 21 Cortleigh.
I am in the house alone this morning, your mother having gone down to the U.W.C. to attend a meeting.
The Macmillan ms. of English on Newfoundland proceeds apace. I have 200 pages done and there remains only 80 more. The ms. is exceedingly interesting though it needs quite a bit of revision. It is full of 'the tempestuous Atlantic,' 'the brave and gallant heroes,' 'his soul took flight to his immortal rest,' 'and God or Fate executed his eternal vengeance' (on the pirate) etc. He writes as if the early 19th century, but the material is original and at times fascinating.
I am having my birthday stag a week from tomorrow (Saturday). It will be much the same gang at the York Club Knox, McLuhan, Goudge, Corbett et al. After dinner we do nothing but chin, chin, chin till we have exhausted all the stories. I enjoy such an evening and the boys say such stags are the highlights of existence.
I hope your snow storms are over. Boston must be the centre of snow hurricanes. Why I can't imagine.
With much love,
ms. of English on Newfoundland