c/o Rev. Dr. McQueen

My Dear Cal,

I received an Edmonton paper this morning. It has a bit of Western bluff in its [?name]"Capital" apart from that there were several items of interest on the front page. A cartoon on local politics, I fancy, though without a jot of reason, was particularly good. Then there was a picture of an aspirant to the dignity of Alderman. The Capital may or may not support the gentleman in question; "it does ne say ye ken." He may be good looking in the picture his face badly blurred. I also notice that "Crippen must hang." By the way suspect that Crippen will have noticed that also. On the edge of the middle of the paper there was written in big black letters that the plasterers are going to end the strike--and return to plaster--very wise of them. Well I came darned near turning over pages when my attention was drawn to some XX like I sent to my girl. My first thought was that she had sprung a surprise on me. For these are are bigger than she ever returned. So much so that in one the pen kicked and in another it ran dry. Well you know I was mighty busy trying to comprehend the situation when my eye was drawn to the reading. Just there, would you believe there was that Old Kal's name. I knew he would bob up again out of the deep deep silence of the past few months, but just when or how nobody could be expected to foresee. I guess Kal has become pi'al[sic] and will soon develop into High Par. Whether Cris Mcl. is a prophet or not.

Congratulations you dear old friend of mine. I am glad congenial work is opening up for you. It is only a step but it is a step.

The city will afford many advantages, which the country cannot afford. In the near future something bigger will again open for you. Fred wanted to be put on an equality with Dr. McQueen. One can scarcely expect that in a few months.

I miss you like everything this year. You are the only fellow who seemed to understand my uncouth, untutored faith. The term is jogging along. Bill Cameron eats with us, reminding us of the age gone by. Fred wrote me from Orillia a few days ago. He is getting along fine. Dickson is smiling on the Scotch lassies. This year Geo. Bryce is mutching around here. I don't know what he is going but if general [origin?] counts for anything he is doing Something. McF. is gone but Dick Davidson is a good substitute. Kil is great this year. Sam too is doing excellent work. Paul is as big hearted as ever nor has his corporal capacity decreased. He is Paul's still. Ballie is the same Old Ticket and what shall I say of the Principal-----???? Continue page 4.

Some [such?] day by-and-by when you get time you may drop a line to your humble servant. I am going out into your country either to preach or to farm in the spring. Am not much particular which.

These pages are both incoherent and illogical, but am writing after lectures which will explain much.

Ever your friend

R.N. Matheson

[P.S.] The fellows here often enquire about you and wish to be remembered to you.