The front of the postcard is annotated with “mo botán”, with the ‘buailte’ sign on the ‘t’ (though not on the ‘b’), meaning ‘my hut / my shed’. The back is a short letter to his girlfriend Agnes, whom he later married. It reads:
Delighted to get yours of 16th inst today, and sorry to see that ye were thinking that all kinds of things had happened to me. In your last note of 30th ult. you threw out a broad hint that Ned would be jealous if I did not write him and so I sent him a P.C. on 8th inst, the very day on which I got yours but then there has been terrible delay in London. Now please don’t go on with any such silly dreaming as that I was sick as I’ve never been in better health I.G.
Shush! Ye are all suppressed, and so I’ll expect ye to talk nothing but Irish when we get back.
Grand for Ned L. to have such charming visitors. Poor Jack, and his aunt, and the hay, and the register. How will he manage to live for the five weeks. Write me a long account of how you’re spending those weeks and don’t bother about the Censor for I’m sure that poor fellow doesn’t know and never wishes to know either of us. I’d simply love (as girls say) to be in Dublin now.