ScrpBk1_20_verso
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Height: 5555Width: 4368File Format: tiff (Tagged Image File Format)File Size: 72816236Filename: 3081_2016-001_ScrpBk1_20_verso.tifLast Modified: 2024-07-28T14:35:10.146ZOriginal Checksum: af6bae5502951f5c977984c16ee9d132Mime Type: image/tiff
Page contains a typescript of a letter, dated 10 January 1908, from Georges Destrubé to his sister, Sylvie, written before Georges joined Maurice at the homestead in Rife, Alberta.
- [start page] 10th January 1908. My dear old Syl, I was very surprised on receiving Maurice's letter. I think that he is quite right in advising that I should come out immediately, especially since by delaying I run the risk of losing so desirable a piece of land. Do impress this upon Papa and ask him to let me take the very first boat out. It is a great pity that we did not get Maurice's letter before my departure, as this return to France has turned out to be a useless expense. Hard luck, Eh? ... When I left you on Saturday night looking so charming and winsome in your ball-dress, I little expected on seeing you again so soon, but this next will be my last holiday and it will be the last time I will see you for years, - perhaps for good! It is comparatively easy thing to say good-bye on going away for a few months, but it will be a sad heart-wrench to say farewell for so long a time. Of course I enjoyed myself very much at Christmas time, what with our frequent "outings"and other enjoyments I had a very good time of it. I only hope to enjoy myself as much on this last stay home, so as to take away with me an agreeable recollection of London. In a former letter to me you complained of my not giving you enough information and detail concerning my "doings" etc. I find it very irksome hunting up the details on events, but I will try and satisfy you by relating the minor details that took place on our journey out here. When leaving home Saturday night we got our luggage down to the station all right. We missed the train to London-Bridge but got one through to the Bank. We had some difficulty transporting our luggage on changing at Oxford St. but we managed to do so without mishap. But in coming out at the Bank Station we were less fortunate, for the stairs were long and steep and the baskets were very heavy and poor old Paul was beginning to "give way" at the knees. I was walking on ahead with the bigger basket, while Paul was staggering along with the smaller one just behind me; we were just mounting the last few steops when I caught the sound of a despairing groan & heard a noise as of something collapsing behind me; I guessed what happened, turned round and lo! I saw no longer Paul & basket but a heap on the floor instead! However I managed to disentangle him from cape, coat, & basket & so we set off once more hoping for better luck. So we struggled along the nearly deserted streets towards the Bennett wharf, resting our loads at every 1/4 mile. The second halt brought us (in streaming perspiration) to the middle of London Bridge, where we rested our "belongings" on the parapet of the bridge, just above the fast flowing tide beneath us. There were but one or two people here, but lots of empty cabs were running past and they all pulled up to know if we were in need of them. But of course we did not want one, especially being at that moment so very near the end of our journey. The cabbies evidently thought we had some distance [end page]
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