I thank you for your pretty letter so interesting.  My great sister Marie work very hard for to aid me read it, but it is very difficult to comprehend.  It is because you talk the American and the dictionary talk only the English.  I will try to learn the American if you will to me give the instructions.  Dear godfather, you are not in anger against me?  I make always attention to be polite and genteel, because already I love you from far.  But Marie say there is the miss understand in our letters she cannot explicate.  For three nights I sleep not well because I search to comprehend what is it that makes bad, then this morning I have it the idea brilliant; there is on the place des Clercs the dentist American.  It is writ on his door, Dr. Yanket, and Maman go to sew on the dresses of Madame.  She talk very well with two tongues, and Maman say she regard the letters then she laugh very strong.  Then she say to Maman:  “Console your infant, it may sleep on the two ears[10], because the godfather is one very genteel little boy.”  And then she write a little paper she desire me copy for you very careful.  Here is it:  “Jimmy, in Uncle Sam’s name I am proud of you.  You’re the right sort keep it up and don’t get cold feet.  For that godchild of yours is very much all right, as you will very soon realize.  But let me give you frankly just one piece of friendly advice; don’t tell your kid to ‘chuck the dictionary out of the window,’ but rather get one yourself, and polish up your English.  Your spelling and your vocabulary are, to use your own expression, ‘something fierce;’ how can you expect the poor little French child to understand your slang?”

There; I have made copy, and again I understand not very well.  But I am sure it go to make all arrange.  And I know that you are one little boy; I am so content!

Dear godfather, it is very droll the fashion you do to make silver in Amerique!  But it is very dangerous, and never in Paris we do like that.  I see in my book of images English how the terrible Red-skins scalp the enemy, “skin ’em alive,” like you say, and I see the image of the chef.  He have long hairs black, with plumes red and green; and chains brilliant suspended, and he carry in the middle one little apron of fur; and he have not knowledge of the bon Dieu.  It is call:  “trading with the Indians.”  Oh please, dear godfather, do not for me trading with the Indians!  I will permit not that you risk to be skin alive.  I make the promise like you say, and I make like you the sign of cross, but I hope not to die if I squeal; I cry not very often, but sometimes, and my poor Maman will be to much desolated if I die.

Goodbye dear godfather; believe at my sentiments the more affectuous,

Your godchild,
A. Leblanc.

[10] Sleep on two ears (dormir sur les deux oreilles) to sleep like a top.

To Mr. James P. Jackson Jr.

Dear Sir: