Dear Mister Ed

I was tellin’ you last time how a bunch of Constabbulary lads dropped in, with nary so much as a fone call first to see if it was a good time to vissit.

Wellsir, Unkle Walts soon to be Missus dont take kindly to bad manors. So it were’nt long till the Mountys was all “yes ma’m” and “no ma’m” and “coffee wud be lovely, thank you ma’m” all over the place.

Now all the while them and there dogs was snoopin’ round in there sock feet, young Emma-Lee the house keeper was actin’ nerviss as a canairy in a cat facktry.

But when they ast her to come along whilst they checked the cottidge her and Bruce lives in, I sware she turned 7 shades of white and each one more pail than the last.

An hour later they come out with there dogs lookin’ all pleased with themselfs and drug poor Emma-Lee away in hand cuffs.

Things went even worse fer Bruce when they found him with a boat fulla marrawanna.

He was’nt packin’ so much as a Switz Army knife, but seein’ as how he come from this side of the boarder, 11 seprate agencys and byurose showed up to take ‘im down, with boats and planes and guns enuff to carry on a small war.

So now the boats in hock in Port Angeliss. Emma-Lee is locked up in Victorya. Bruce is bustin’ rocks on a chain gang somewheres in the State of Warshington. And The Widdows an inch aways from takin’ up residense in a State of Panick.

“Peepul are so inconsidderit” she says “thinkin’ about themselves all the time. How can they expeckt me to deal with all this when its jest over a week till I and Walt get marryed”?

Me and Walt finely got ‘er cammed down with help from a big pot of Irish Breckfist Tea and a goodly dollup of Irish Breckfist Whiskey.

Tonite the weddin’ gests arrive. First thing tomorra Evas boat heads out fer some seckrit place in the U, S, and A.

Cant say fer sure where my next letter’ll come from, but I’ll do my best to keep you posted.

I reckon you been some tyed up of late keepin’ track of all the folks hankerin’ after a peace of the city counsill ackshun.

Personly I ain’t been all that keen on that stuff since back when Billy Wiggins was mare. But when I heard tell that Duke Conroy was fixin’ to take a nother stab at it, my ears kinda pirked up.

Say what you like, old Duke sure had the nack fer keepin’ things lively thereabouts, like Bee First allways useta do in the Big House.

Of coarse Duggy Grayum still nose how to get his name in the papers. And theres allways Davey Stockwell. If not allways, leastwise since the start of recorded time.

Anyways Darrol, I’m sure you reminded folks to get out and vote. Its good fer there sole.

Yer pal,

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