I haven’t written anything in prose or verse since I got here--except statistics--but I’ve stored up a lot of memories to turn into copy when I get a chance. The Colonel occasionally speaks of my historical work, but I doubt if it will be feasible to publish any part of it except some very general stuff until the war is over. I asked Thomas Hughes Kelley to send me a history of the 69th published some years ago, and another copy to you, to make sure. I think it will be useful in preparing the introductory chapters. I love you very much indeed and see you clearly always and have a conviction that I will be with you soon--sooner than you expect. * * * * * Dec. 9th, 1917. I was delighted to receive the other day (December 7th, the day after my birthday) a batch of letters, including two from you. I am glad Kenton is getting along well; I was worried about his illness. It is fortunate you were able to get a good nurse. You ought to be receiving some money from the government soon. I made over half my pay to you, and the government is supposed to add to it so much for you and so much for each youngster. The whole thing will come to about $57 a month, I believe! I personally am not in need of money--I am getting a book of traveller’s cheques from my father and before I heard he was sending it I wrote to John Timpson Co., and asked them to open an account for me in some Paris bank. Also we are paid in francs, which makes us feel wealthy, as there are 5.70 of them in a dollar. And I could live comfortably without any spending money--all there is to buy is candy and canned stuff and wine and an occasional meal when the business of my department takes me to a nearby town. Fr. Garesché’s poem certainly is beautiful; by far the best thing he has done. I am enclosing a letter from Sister ---- which I think you will enjoy. Delightful old person, nearly blind, but tremendously energetic. Harriet Monroe was one of her pupils. Probably you remember her book on Fr. Tabb. Your Christmas presents probably will reach you in time for Easter. I hope to get a pair of wooden shoes for Deborah. I am having a fine time. My statistical work occupies me in the evening as well as all day, but it’s interesting, and will be increasingly important, since the Statistical Department really is the only link between the soldier and his family. I hope as soon as we get settled I’ll be able to do some writing, I’ve been too busy so far. I love you very much, and always think of you. In your letters you spoke of sending me some stuff. Send anything you think of as soon as you think of it--don’t wait to find out if I want it, because the mails take too long. Just now I want snap-shots of you and the children, especially Deborah, and tobacco. I love you. * * * * * December 17.