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[Page 121]
Friday Sept 3rd 1920
There's a big general "strike" starting in England towards the close of this present month, Harry. So if future letters prove lax in arrival at your country, dont worry; you'll know they're delayed on this account... It's expected the "Strike" may last some considerable time
Please tell Ellis. In case mother does not reply to his letter in time to avoid it
My dear Cousin...
Greetings of the best to you on this your natal day! What is it now, eh? Surely not thirty. Oh! Harry, Harry, thirty years of life a-gone. Doesn't it seem terrible.
30 today - and what are you doing at the moment, I wonder. It is 5.30 PM here; a lovely warm summers day... We are all out-of-doors sitting... have just finished taking afternoon tea in the lawn... Me' ums is lying on a rug in the grass to write this - hence the scrawl... It's not too simple a matter writing while lying flat on ones "bingie" (have I spelt it rightly?) is it... Oh, its a most beautiful summer day, mon ami.
In the field right opposite the front of this house of ours, the men are busily engaged mowing down the golden corn. I just love to hear the whur, whur of the reaper, don't you? There's something about it that sets ones pulses dancing in sympathy to its rhythem. And doesn't the golden grain look entrancing with myrieds of tiny dew-drops sparkling upon it. It reminds me of a filigree ornament of gold se with lustrous jewels.
I've something to tell you about my poetry pieces, laddie. Somehow or other, a quite eminent composer of music, residing in London, came across a copy of "Wayflowers". He was interested and wrote asking me would I allow him to set