Letterhead:

My Dear Calvin,

If this letter reaches you I hope the surprise of hearing from me will not be more than your constitution can sustain. My wife and I were talking about you the other day, and about great West which we understand has swallowed you up. This conversation led to the resolve that I would drop you a line and let you know that you are not forgotten, and incidentally that I am still in the land of the living, likewise the alleged land of the free.

I have been in this Kentucky city for two years and two days tonight. During that time I have been connected with the disseminator of news, knowledge and enlightenment, the name of which you may find above. I have run the gamut from police reporter to night editor, and have on the way done politics, sports, dramatics and practically every assignment that a city paper requires. I have handled the city desk, temporarily, and take a night a week on telegraph, so that my experience has been fairly wide and varied. I suppose you do not know of a flourishing Western paper that is looking for a man like me? If you do, or ever should I hope you will let me know. I would be glad to leave the land of the free and get back to God's country.

How are things going with you? What are you doing? Have you gotten yourself a wife, and if so, how is the family? There is just two of us and we are both well.

I still preach occasionally, and expect to supply the pulpit of the leading Christian church in this city during the summer. Let me know something about yourself, and so that the letter may not get lost in the office mail, address me to 1212 Fourth avenue, where I sleep. As I am writing during business hours, and there are matters I must attend to, I beg you to excuse a longer letter now. If I hear from you I will write again.

I am, as ever,

Faithfully, Your Friend,

S. J. Duncan-Clark