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Sunday, 10 August 2014

Thou, thyself art heaven and hell

Hello Pal: I see you have bucked up, and are almost back at the mines. It is too early to predict what sort of job I land, but it is a cinch it won't be easy. I realise daily I have grown rusty while sick, and while I feel bully I am not what I wish I were. No one is that, I suppose, but I seem particularly useless, just a big, husky loafer. Sure thing, when I find what I can do maybe I can get another note to you, but this communication stunt eats up energy like a boat race or a gruelling contest of any sort, and besides it is hard on Sister, lots harder than she realises, so cannot afford to waste myself or her in just pleasant converse. I realise I must make a career for myself as an excuse for being alive. I must either make good at something or go into the discard. Don't know how or what that is exactly, but you get me. Make good I must; make good I wish to; and I have a hunch it is not so easy here as it looks at first, I cannot even get a look-in where your brother lives and enjoys working. He is so far above us I feel ashamed. What a mean, selfish cuss I must be when a chap like him out-classes me so far I cannot even look at him.

Your little brother Harry has done some tall self-examination of late, and is wise to quite a few points of his makeup he wasn't on to before. That is one satisfaction, Tee; you can sit and think until hell freezes over, and no one is at all annoyed at your leisurely processes.

On the whole, this is the place for a square deal. You get what is yours, and get nothing more nor less. Some of us are a bit peeved now and then, but one can't put up a kick, as the boss of the works isn't visible, or rather, between us, you yourself are judge and jury. That is the slick part of the arrangement. Self accused, you have no escape. You get a true line on your own past, your own true motives, and this innate force within does the rest. I can't but admire the simplicity and the lack of waste of the plan. Omar is right: Thou, thyself art heaven and hell. Think of the labour saving device it is. The system sets a soul free, leaves it alone, and the contained ingredients do the rest. Can you beat that, say? I must stop now. I see Sister is all in. So am I, if it's not impolite to state it. Here's to you, now and always.

Harry