Jules has received a wound, and he is very joyful because it make him not to die; on the contrary it make him cited at the order of the day and decorated with the Médaille Militaire. He make two boches prisoners and catch them with one hand because the other had the very bad hurt. And then he fainted himself on the ground and the Cross Red pick him and conduct him at a great hospital in Paris. And Tuesday Maman and Marie go to see him and take him the lemonade. And yesterday Monsieur Teddy ask Maman the permission to take me to see him also and she say yes and we go. We ride in the tramway pending a long time and I give Monsieur Teddy a lesson of French, and he say nothing but, oui, oui and chic alors—zut alors! And all the travelers regard us and laugh and Monsieur Teddy laugh also. But when we arrive at the hospital he laugh not at all. He take my hand and I keep it very tight because I am frighten. It is very beautiful, the hospital. There is the great garden with trees and flat bands[[22]] and the soldier sentinel at the door. Inside it is all white and dark, a little like the church, and it smell of pharmacy and nobody make a noise. A lady white conduct us up the stairs and open a door, and I see a great number of beds in lines with Poilus in them. When they see the uniform American some make the salute military and I feel myself very proud. Jules was so content he say it make his hurt to go away immediately. And Teddy sit on a chair and give cigarettes and try to make conversation with his hands. And I sit on the bed and make talk with two tongues and ten fingers also. And Teddy say he will come again see brother Jules all the Sundays and Thursdays and console him until he go to fly away. Very sure he is one angel, Mr. Teddy! And he go up in the heavens with the wings! Oh little foolish godfather! Understand you not he is one aviator? And you must not be in anger when he give me the good things to eat. Perhaps in Amerique the cold cream is bad, but in Paris it make you not sick, on the contrary. I show not your letter to Mr. Teddy because you say for two cents you twist his nose and his eyes and it is not very genteel, dear godfather. When you think wickedness the bon Dieu punish you. It is because you think wickedness of Mr. Teddy that you become sick and cannot to eat the pancakes, and must drink the oil of the caster.
I am content that the Miss Betty understand you and you tell her all things, and she is like the ferry with the twisted hairs. Hairs like gold is very pretty for little boys like Jean, but on ladies it look like the sun have fade the color. Thank you for the poetry she make. But my great sister see it and she say to Maman: "These infants write great foolishness all the time. If it continues we must give Andree no more stamps of five sous. We will make the economy and send only a card postal all the three months when the Comité Americain send the silver of the godfather."
And I am very unhappy because Maman will not permit me to polish door-knobs like you and gain silver for the stamps of five sous. But little Jean come squeeze my neck and console me, and say he will work and become rich to purchase the stamps of five sous. Poor little! He know not what it is the life, but he is one brave little man, and I think he will resemble to you, dear godfather. Oh, I forget, in my other letter I write when Mr. Teddy come, to say I desire very much your portrait where you are grinning, like you say. I love much the grinning godfather. I will place you above my bed, under the branch of blessed box. My Papa is there also, and I embrace him all the nights, before I lie down.
Dear little godfather, I am very recognizing[[23]] that you guard 47 sous for my Christmas. Alas, I can never enough say thank you for all you do, and I can never render it to you! It make me full of sorry when I think that. With Maman I essay to guess what you want I do. I will make something with my proper hands, and Maman will aid. You will love a pair of slippers embroidered, or a shawl (I want say a scarf) or a bonnet of aviator? Tell me, I pray of you,
I shake your hand affectuously.
Your godchild,
Andrée Leblanc.
Greenville Falls
Nov. 18, 1917.