My Dearest Mother,

Here we are down at the seaside waiting for a ship to take us across. How soon that will be I don’t know but I’m fairly well satisfied here as the people of Saint John certainly used us fine so far. It is quite a pretty place. We are on what is called West Saint John. I have to take a ferry to get across to town. It isn’t an island but just where the ocean cuts in here we are at the immigration buildings and you can stand in the front door and watch the tide come in and out. Although it’s very quiet here as it doesn’t get the sweep that it would on the coast.

There is two hours difference in the time between here and home. I enjoyed my trip down here the utmost and if the rest of it is no worse than what’s past I’ll be jake. But all the way down I never saw any place I’d like to live in better than Manitoba. I mean as regards the land as it is nothing but clay all the way down with fields that we would call gardens at home. It is very pretty all the way down even the miles and miles of solitude looked nice with the little ribbons of springs running down them. But for beauty N.B. has them all skinned.

There was snow on the way down and then we had about half a day of none. Then we ran into it again and lasted all the way to Quebec. Since then we have not seen any. Say, we had a fine reception everywhere but in Quebec. They wouldn’t even come near the train. Montreal is a very nice city as we were off and had a route march there. It is kind of terraced with its rows of houses on the side of a large hill. It certainly looked swell from a distance.

We have fine barracks here steam heated and cots to sleep on with ticks of straw so you see we are quite comfortable and are being treated fine. Every person says we are the best looking bunch that was ever come.

Love,

James