My dearest Cal,

Like yourself the Christmas feeling is taking possession of me and I cannot write in detail. Ruby is home and seems very well. It is just the noise of the College that is almost unbearable. Am sending paper with full particulars of the times we are having.

It is a shame, that such things should have occurred, because those in authority at the right time did not treat the men fairly. In three years the men's wages have not been changed and we all know how the price of living has risen. On Saturday, Mr. Gibson and some of the family had the nerve to get into a streetcar, they were recognized and the cry raised, "There's the Gibson family." They were hooted, called scabs, and it is said Mrs. G. took to her heels when she got out of the car. I am busy setting up my President's address for our Auxiliary Annual Meeting next week, am getting very tired of these things but am glad to have it over before Christmas. The Mission Band sale on Friday was very successful and the girls are very glad to have it over and start on the Christmas preparations. On the way from Ottawa Ruby was befriended by a Mr.Wm. Wallace, formally City-Editor of "The Star." He seemed to be a jovial soul. Do you remember him? Eleanor Ross is recovering. Dave Ross is with a contractor Moris Blessette in Sound [?Keuna]; a wealthy Frenchman, who is doing railway work. You have had your trials with calves and we have had ones with chimes. They started to ring the quarters also, but people in the vicinity protested against them at night, but they started the hours. The whole thing has been a frightful waste of money. As the cities are now, all noise unnecessary should be avoided. With much love from all.

Your loving mother

M.B. McQuesten