From: George Gleasure, Listowel, Ireland
To: Frank Gleasure, 82 West Canton St. Boston, Massachusetts
My dear Frank,
I am writing you these few lines hoping they will find you well and in good health as we all are at present. I have hardly the time to write as I have not one minute to look around. I am kept going all the time Sunday and every day is all the same. I got to write to you the last time we got your last letter, the fourth of August and the papers on the tenth and was very glad to hear you are alright and having an easy job. There was a good deal of interesting news in the papers and moreover about the fourth of July. I do not care so much about them papers as I do about the Globe or Herald. I know them papers of old [shehy?] the pensioner died a short time after you going. He was found dead in bed. We have Jim [Molonney?] living in the house now. He got married to one of the Driscols at the spaw. We will have the battle show in Listowel on the 3rd and will have the races the first week of October. Well I expect the heat is doing out by this time in America. It was a very fine summer here. Also the weather is warm since you went away all the time and is yet only the nights is cool and fine to sleep. You said something about not being able to get along with Mike's wife. It is no surprise to me. I expected so much. Mind yourself of the whole lot. Keep your mind to yourself and your head bare for none of them and the less you have to do with them, the better its my opinion. You know what they all are if not you are asleep. You will soo know what the Irish is in america as I have told you often they are a bad ignorant lot at home and abroad and now as I have not much more to tell you do not waste your time or at least your money with anybody because time slips away and so will the people you stand to keep your mind on business and there is no fear of you. Write soon and send some papers as we all like to see the papers from America, and moreover, May and the young lad as he does be inquiring when he sees a letter to know if it is yours. He thinks you will not come back. He says so. I must close for this time.
George Gleasure,
Listowel
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