Yet yince again, dear Eddie,
Some lines I pen by haun’,
Though naething o’ a poet,
I’ll dae the best I can
Tae try an’ answer yer bra note
In words baith true and plain
Min’ am no a fit competitor
For Eddie o’ the Maine
At one day.

I see ye want my hame address,
An’ that gees me some hope,
But still it’s better no tae gee
You men sae muckle scope,
Ut am at hame when am no out,
An’ if ye chance tae call,
An daes nae get me in the house,
Shure am no there at all
Tae ony yin.

A see ye tak’ my writing
For only a bit lark,
An’ try for tae mar’ me believe
Ye dinna like the dark.
If Am’ no fair, or roon, or square,
Whut shape might A be,
Tis your opinion A regard
No ither folks, ye see
At ony time.

Advice ye gee nae doot is guid
Tae in the Bible dip,
There’s a time for a’ beneath the sun
So tak this straightforward tip,
Jest tak a wife, for guid or worse,
When noo this chance ye see,
An’ leive in love an’ happiness
Untae the day ye dee
And langer if ye can.

A’m shure ye ken the sang aboot
The fish without the tail,
Weel, man without a woman
Dase niver straightly sail,
Except, perhaps, some gie odd yins,
An’ thses go a’ labsided,
Wud nae keep a wife no e’en themselves
By honest girls derided

Also, ye ken, it is nae guid
For man tae be alane,
It taks a mate in ony hoose
Tae keep a clean hearthstone,
Likewise the kettle on the boil
Whun that her man comes hame,
An’ whun he haes nae a’ these things
He’s jest himself tae blame,
A’ the time.

Ye say yer no o’ hope bereft,
A chance A might hae yit,
A wunner who ye hae eed oot
Tae mak his miss a hit.
There’s nae mistak yin need be fly
And no make ony blunder,
Perhaps my letters hae gaan rang,
If so, it is nae wunner,
Hoo she got ye.

That’s if she haes got ye yit,
Shure yin can niver tell
Whether a chap’s yer ain or no
Till ye hear yer waddin’ bell,
An’ then perhaps it’s jist the han’
An’ no sae easy tae mak’ shure,
Yin neednae loodly craw,
Ony time.

Before A close A’ll dra’ tae you
A picture you can see
If you jist close yer een an’ think
Of only you and me.
A bra wee hoose and a’ things bright,
Noo, whut else can A say,
Jist pluck up courage and this
Wull be yours some day.
Wae Eva Green.

E. G. 8th November 1919

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