| Title: | McMahon Glynn, Patrick to Glynn, Mary Agnes, 1884 |
|---|---|
| ID | 4379 |
| Collection | Patrick McMahon Glynn: Letters to his family (1874-1927) [Gerald Glynn O'Collins] |
| File | glynn/29 |
| Year | 1884 |
| Sender | McMahon Glynn, Patrick |
| Sender Gender | male |
| Sender Occupation | lawyer |
| Sender Religion | unknown |
| Origin | Kapunda, South Australia, Australia |
| Destination | Gort, Co. Galway, Ireland |
| Recipient | Glynn, Mary Agnes |
| Recipient Gender | female |
| Relationship | siblings |
| Source | |
| Archive | |
| Doc. No. | |
| Date | |
| Partial Date | |
| Doc. Type | |
| Log | unknown |
| Word Count | 585 |
| Genre | family, weather |
| Note | |
| Transcript | Kapunda South Australia Jany 16th 1884. My dear Mary Agnes Your letter has been in my waistcoat pocket waiting for an answer for the last two mails, but the reply had from something or another to be put off till now. However, the news that I could send you about people here would be stale to you at any time. From what you told me it seems that you have grown into quite a young woman for the last 31/2 years; a short time to look back upon, but it brings about many changes. I remember when Tommy, John MacNamara, Wafly Cook, Shiel, and myself used to make up Jerry Brougham's fifth class; fourteen years ago now. Denis Hoolean and Rollo used to call for us when Jerry kept us too late, and Denis was the man that could make himself heard. You probably go to the Nuns school. Remember me to the Reverend Mother and all the Sisters. Has Mrs. De Sales got that short butt of a ruler yet, that used to tickle our hands for us every morning, and defy all the horse-hairs in Christiandom to split it? Many a night I dreamt of it, and went to school smiling next day at the prospect of having to shake hands with it again. Well, Gort was not such a bad place after all. There are not many places so nice as the Punch Bowl, nor are there many things so pleasant as to sit down on the seat that faces the ladle, and study away there for hours as I used to do when preparing for College Examinations, with Duxey McKeon helping me to understand what was hard. There was a sweetness in everything around, which fellows out here often dream about when they get into a thinking mood. I suppose you sometimes go for a Sunday to New Quay in the Summer time, and get Paddy Madden to take you for a row to Dear Island. If you don't, you should get Johnny to take you down some day as he used to do before. Remember me to Paddy Madden. Curious to say, about 18 months ago I wrote at random the first two chapters of a story in which the Maddens were the principal characters, with an addition to their family created by my imagination. I laid it aside unfinished, not being satisfied with it. This is a very hot country sometimes, but very changeable. For the last few days I might as well have been in a Turkish bath as in my office. You will see by the extract from a paper enclosed in this that Sunday last was a regular Scortcher. The wind from the North, which, of course here means from the Equatorial regions, is like the blast from a furnace. It gets heated passing over dry, sun withered countries. When a change comes on, the houses are like ovens for a few days longer. You said in your letter that Baby O'Donnell was able to say "Go. Wa." when she left Gort after her visit. If so, she is picking up Chinese, which is a language altogether of monosyllables. In the enclosed photograph—the middle man is Fooks, whom I met for the first time a few hours before it was taken, the other a client of mine named Miller. My time being now up, I must bid you goodbye, with love and remembrances to all Your affect, brother P. McM. Glynn Miss M. A. Glynn |
