Fourway Farm,
February 1, 1935.

Dear Ab,

I have gave your last letter very careful consideration, and on the whole I dont think it would be a good idea for a young man crost in love to join the furrin leegin.

In the first place I dont know how a man goes about joining it. I the second place I don’t know where their headquarters is at, and thirdly and lastly I dout very much if you got money enuff to pay your fare to get there.

Anyhow whats all this foolery about? I thought you had got over al this here love sick nonsense of yours and here you got to go and write me a letter what sounds like the senseless bellerins of a moonstruck poddy calf.

Its terrible disappointing to me, Ab, what thought I was reering a sone who seemed to be growing into something that looked like a man at last.

Fergive me if I seem a bit bitter, but any father would go off the handle to get such a letter as you sent me this week. I been ashamed to show it to your ma for fear she might want to come down and stroke your anguished brow.

Lissen, Ab, whats the city been doing to you that a skion of the old James clan of Billibilli should go all woosy over a bit of a flapper with a double set of lips and a white-washed nose and eyebrows that don’t grow the way nature ment them to.

Seems to be lad that you have missed something of the old James stammer against a thing like that.

All your long line of ancesters, Ab, has been more or less disappointed in love and very near all of em have lived on to reelise that it wasent so much a disappointment as a lucky escape.

So keep on hoping my son, and the time may come when you will be able to look at it from that way too.

As for the furrin leegin, if you reely want to be a stricken hero come up here and take your coat off and help me and your brother Joe to lift at least one of the morgages off of the old James homestead. What with floods, drouts, grasshopper, fleas and rabbits, red rust, catterpillers, snales, snakes and sorer it mite help to take your mind off the finer things of life.

In other words, Ab, take a run and jump at yourself and don’t write me no more dilly letters like that last one.

I don’t think I got any more news from, but kind love from all.

Your aff. father.
JAS. JAMES

"Den"
Herald, 2 February 1935, p6

Note
This piece was originally published with the title "Letters to Ab" only.