Jany. 8th.

Last night the thermometer at -36º! Since the first of this month the thermometer has been below zero all the time, with the exception of one day when I was 11º above. The wind has changed to day + is blowing from the West. I hope it will continue so for a time, for then we are likely to have fine moderate weather. This morning, I did not get up until 9.30, no one wakened me and I slept on quite unconscious that the Sick bugle had sounded – Ferland however came over to see me + wakened me. I could not think what made me sleep so soundly, until just a few moments ago, I laid it down to a walk I took yesterday, with Welch + my gun – we went about 8 miles after deer – but were unfortunate, both of us fell into the river. I got my beautiful proboscis frozen + we saw no deer. My nose is not going to drop off, don’t be afraid of that, it was only slightly touched with frost on the left side near the point. I dare say it will peel. At present it looks fat + is as shiny as the traditional Ethiopian’s Hell, + red as a grog [?] blossom. It is an edifying spectacle, I assure you. It feels as tho’ somebody has been unsuccessfully trying to wrench it off. Mother always had a horror of my nose freezing + falling off, she always used to caution me about my nose.

Col. McLeod told us to night that a mail would probably leave for Benton the day after tomorrow. “Probably” means if it is not too cold. When will you get this? It seems an age since I began to write it + yet I can hardly believe that it is only 11 days ago. How impatiently I am waiting for another letter from you. The last I received was from St. Catherine’s – you told me the next would be from Toronto. I do so want to hear again from you. What a horrid man Mr. Beaty must be – to go and turn you away from your little curch hall. I hope that you will like the room under the Temperance Hall. It will be a little longer walk for you on Sundays. You must tell me all about how the thing ended and what Mr. Beaty intends doing. Will any one remain at the old building? What about that little building on Pembroke Street, did you not tell me that that was one of your churches? Does it belong to your uncle too? Do you remember the evening we passed it? Going up to the gardens? I found the programme of that evening in the inside of that black hard hat I used to wear, I had thrown the hat away, an Indian got it + was wearing it, but before the Indian got it I found this programme, this was way down at the Old Wives Creek. How many happy recollections that brought back. Brookhouse Bowler, “Let me like a soldier fall”, Don Cesar de Bezan, Maritana[?].

The walk home, the pleasant evening after. Ah, when shall we ever again have such a fun joyous happy peaceful time. Do you recollect asking me which proverb I thought would come true – “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” or the other one, which I will not even write? Well, do you find any trouble – in your case, in telling which one is likely to be true? I do not, I never had any – I never will have any trouble about such a question.

The wind is whistling outside in the most dismal manner, but it is from the right quarter. The wind too finds many a crack + hole in our mud plastered walls, + away from the stove makes it pretty cold. I am going, as soon as the weather permits, to get a window put in my bedroom, and then I intend having the ceiling covered with a heavy awning cloth, + line the walls with factory cotton. This will keep some of the wind out and make the place to much brighter than it does at present. I have not yet taken a sketch of the interior of the fort for you, but must get one to send off by this mail. I must leave you for tonight as I want to finish a letter to Mannie, or rather add something to an already finished letter, so good night.