Dear Horace, I thought I would drop

[M5]
Highland Military Academy
Worcester, May 27th '78

Dear Horace,
I thought I would drop you a line, in the dubious hope that by some freak on natures part, you might respond.
As you might be interested in such a thing I would say, that I have just finished a complete course in book-keeping both single and double entry. I am of quite to much of a speculative mind to ever make a success at the solem reality of a book-keeper. No sir, I will never burn any mid-night oil in squaring accounts. The Lord made me, and after a turn of mind which would never permit me to run my life from the point of a pen. He never gifted me with enough of that peculiarity which characterized Job. I never intend to do any great amount of labor. I have but one short life and do not aspire to wealth nor fame in a degree which could only be obtained by an extraordinary effort on my part.
"The pathes of glory lead but to the grave." As book-Keeping would not tend to extend my chances in the one direction (fame) and seeing that he seldom reaches further in the other direction I have concluded not to hire out in that capasity. Therefore my stock of knowledge in that point is superfluious but if Rob wants a few points, why apply to the little "snip" who used to supplicate for the donation of a jack-knife and thanks to the several partners of Sackrider & Sons generally gained his point.
No, I am going to try and get into Cornell College this coming June and if I succeed will be a Journalist. I mean to study for an artist anyhow whether I ever make a success at it or not.

II)

There is just one obstruction between me and prosperity, that is, if Uncle Sam ever gets into any delicate controversy I will leave my bones where thousands of patriotic Americans have deposited theirs within the past fifteen years. Dont calculate there will be much trouble about Fenians and Communists this coming summer. In the first place the United States never bred enough Irish Nationalists to get over the Canadian line; and second America is an unwholesome soil for a transplantation of such a foreign idea.

(Sketch of two men -Com. on left and Fen with pipe on right)

Next Wednesday we start on our annual excampment. Well, its hard with the marching, etc., but its different from barrack life. I am an acting Corporal now and dont have any more sentinel duty to do, which is the bug-bear of a soldier's life.
I have not seen you Canton people or at least I wont see you until a year shall have passed. I guess the Col. is going Up in the woods with me this year. It will do the old boy good. Lord I fix him. I fill those pants up so full of fleash that cast iron buttons wont hold and I'll put a tan on his "phiz" that would lead you into a dialema as to what part of the South Sea Islands he came from. Darn him, I'm disgusted so is Mama. We have concluded that the old boy dont know enough to take care of his precious corpse and we are going to do it for him. Ma snatched him out of his office and l'm going to cut him off somewhere

III

where a tooth-brush and a newspaper will be as difficult to find as "Rat" Warner at church.
The drum for "tatoo" has beat and I must to the court of Morpheus. Good by, much love, millions of imaginary kisses to the branch of the Sackrider trible so he gos
Yours all over.
Fred Remington

(sketch of Fred R. hopping into bed in night shirt with "Good night" below.)