
ASYLUM FOR THE INSANE
LONDON.
ONTARIO
London, Ont.,9 Sept 1888
A quiet, warm, dreamy, breezy, sunshiny, peaceful, Sabbath day—no sounds in the
air but the sleepy buzzing of flies and the distant church bells—chapel is
over and the folk mostly gone to church—I am off duty and putting in the
morning in the office writing a batch of letters—have just written to Mrs
Costelloe—had a letter from her last
evening—she says Mr Smith is now quite blind of one eye
but can read with the other—she sends me a picture of Ray who seems to be
thriving finely. I have begun my Annual Report am going to make it pretty long this year—shall
put in a lot about alcohol—results of its disuse at the Asylum and a
discussion as to its mode of action upon the nerve
centers. I shall be kept here pretty steady I guess until I get the Report off my
hands, a month from now, after that if all be well it is quite possible I shall be
East about the meter business—Should that go as we
think it ought this may be the last annual report I shall write—but of course
I say nothing about that at present.

