Memories of Ireland  
HAROLD MORGAN STANLEY - extracts from letters to his father, 
George Wilson Stanley in Ireland from Canada

Dec 25, 1904

A Merry Christmas to you one and all. This is Christmas Day, the first one I have spent away from home. I do not think it is Christmas. It is not like the ones I spent in the dear old home. Home Sweet Home, there's no place like home. If ever there was a true saying, that is it. I can picture you all sitting round the fire and (inaudible) and Ail playing  'Hark the herald angels sing, glory to the new born king'. There is no one to sing  with here and no Church to go to. But I played it on the mouth organ, or at least tried to and sang what I knew of it, not in Church but in the stable with Paddy. But the day will come when we will all sing it together.  I went to the Fort yesterday on the river to get a few little presents for the children. They were so glad  to get them. Poor little things, they don't get much. 

We had some fun coming back. It was dark, pitch dark and the temperature was about 35 below zero. We were coming along fine. The horses were a team of bronkoes, wild horses. I was driving with Harry. We were about 1 miles from home when the neck yoke broke and down the tong fell. If we hadn't a circus, talk about going. They beat the mail 60 miles per hour for about a mile or two till at last I got them pulled up. My arms were nearly pulled out. When we got them stopped we had to get out and take our mitts off and tie the tong up again. Our hands were nearly frozen. The harness was frozen on the horses and I had a narrow escape of getting my nose frozen but I rubbed it with snow.  It is a little sore as if the skin was rubbed off the tip. That is the worst of having too big a nose.

Thanks for those little books. I gave them to the children telling them it was from Hala's mama. Mr & Mrs. B say to thank you so much. Love to all.



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