16 Dec. 1916.
Dear Benefactor,

I thank you with the bottom of my heart for your kindness unto me.
Maman and me have been so content to receive your letter and your
donation generous! Your succour will sweeten the times difficult that
we are traversing; and the silver[1] you send will permit me to eat of
the meat and be forceful to aid maman she has so much of labor and of
pain! I will tell you, dear benefactor, that I am not the most robust
But I take the oil of liver of cod-fish all the days for make myself
high and good-carrying.[2] Yes, dear benefactor, I will forget never
what you do, and all the nights I make a prayer for you be happy in
the life.

I cannot to read your letter very well alone, because I know not
sufficient the English. But I have one aunt, she is dead, she know
very well the English, and she teach me of it and my great sister
also; she is a dactylographer,[3] and she know the English very
perfect, and she me aids so I do mistakes not at all. And I serve me
of the dictionary also. Maman say your letters will make complete my
education. But some words I comprehend not. What is, for example, the
kid? I search and I see only it is the offspring of a goat. I am sure
in the book is the mistake, for my dear godfather will not make the
pain to me and my Maman in calling me the offspring of a goat.

Dear godfather, I am also surprise that you be so much heavy. I have
11 years like you, and I am only 39 kg heavy. But in Amerique, Maman
tell me, all is big, big! It is droll, so big little boys. Sometimes
I ask myself if you are veritably a little boy. Perhaps it is to
make laugh you tell me you are one infant. Perhaps you are the old