George Wilson Stanley in Ireland from Canada
Nov 13, 1904 (To Edwie - the brother)
It is a fine life, there is no mistake about that. Perhaps a little rough but what odds about that, the rougher the better for me. How would you like to have a day with me. Well...suppose you were here. Half past six up. That is nothing unusual for you, then downstairs. If Mr. B is up he lights the fire. If not, I do. Then you would have to get a pail and go to the stable with a lantern and get an old box and squat down before a cow and milk and so on. Meanwhile Mr. B has fed the horses. Then bring the milk to the house and wash and have breakfast. Then Paddy has to be watered. I put a bridle on him so that he has no chance to bolt and I up and go full gallop bareback on a pony that has not been broken to a saddle a month.
Then Mr. B says he is going to the woods to get a load of wood. We get the wagon. First Mr. B falls a tree, then I get the horses hitched on to it and draw it out through brush and everything and get half scratched to pieces and so on till we have a load, then home for dinner. Then after dinner out again and get the crosscut saw and cut away, the two of us till tea time. Three or four hours without a stop. Then saddle up And round up the cows and milk and feed the horses and everything else and at 9 or 10 I am ready for bed.
Well fancy his Reverence going through all this. That is not the worst. That is an easy day. But everyone to his liking. Fancy me in a pulpit. I could not say a word. I do miss my dear brother.
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