[letter undated. Found in garage of a Federation home in Sydney's west)
Thanks for the letter. Next time you write, tell me how many mails you get each week and I'll try to write to you each mail. There's really not much news but perhaps I can find something to write about.
I don't know your father, but one of the fellows at the P.O. said that his name was Larkin, and he was short so I thought it was your father. Perhaps I was mistaken though...
Ian fell down a flight of stairs last night, but he said he didn't hurt himself. I thought he looked sick but if he said he wasn't sick, he wasn't, he'd know, wouldn't he. We had quite the argument in the train last night. I told the boys that if they spoke to Mac while I was with them they needn't speak to me. Mac is detestable. You've got no idea of some of the things he says.
Well so much for my troubles. How are you. Remember me to Jock will you?
I'm sorry dear that you have no visitors, but when you come home, we will see if we can make up for that. I really didn't doubt that what you put in your wasn't right, still, thanks for confirming it. I think it is swell. I haven't seen Ron since you were home last; I don't know whether he thinks I'm poison or not.
Well dear you must excuse this scribble as I am writing this at work and it is nearly 4-45pm, and I want to catch the mail. I hope to have some news to put in my next letter, and also to have more time to write it.
So lots of love