University of Toronto,
Fencing Club,
38 Alexander St., Toronto, Ontario

My Dear Mother,

Rec'd your letter on Saturday. Poor little lass! You have still got your pristine vigor of mind and body. I suppose you planned what you would do all the night before. Perhaps I could have solved the question more easily because I have one of the keys of the vacant house in my coat pocket here. I got it at Xmas and forgot to take it out of my pocket. Will enclose it.

It is a very good thing indeed that you got rid of the lodger property so advantageously. Your bad debts seem to come back to you pretty well and at the most opportune times.

Don't lament about Mrs. Bell getting rid of Florrie for a few weeks. It is less work for her. She has less to wait on.

It was not the story you speak of that was referred to about the gates, but some old Residents yarn. The senate have passed a resolution about that letter declaring that it is false and so wildly written and exaggerated that they do not consider it worth their while to investigate it.

On Sunday evening, went to Milligans and that Mr. MacKay of Marshal preached. He is a sort of a mess. One of the kind of preachers who uses fine language, deal with vague abstractions, say nothing, but mightily impress most of their hearers and all reporters, simply bull-dogging them by what sounds like a superior education. He is eminently suited to a fashionable congregation. Will never set the Thames on fire. One of that sort of minister who begin their prayers with a long intricate simile which they have worked over time to invent and then make a bluff to work it off as if it was spontaneous. That will about hold the Rev. Mr. MacKay.

Was asked to Bessie Proudfoot's for Saturday next and also to the Ladies' Literary Society (very exclusive) but cannot go.

Well, my dear Mother must close.

Your loving son

Tom