Dear Father,
Yesterday I have gone to Briton, it is a place besides the sea and there are meny red bodys laying in the sand and they are cooking in the sun like the meet. They are laying all the day and they wish that they be browned off like me. The ladys take there close off and have the bear skins and they are nearly newd. I feel embrassed. They lay besides the men with the big stomaches like the humps of the camels. Some middle old men walked on the water with legs of the trowser up to the nees the trowser is fassened with brasses. The childrens bild cassels with the spades in the sand and they showt and larf but no bodys else larf, they are sleeping. The English have the sun for there god but he plays the trics and he disappears and he send the rain then it is very funny farther. I washed all the bodys and they jump up and pick up the close and they are running like the ants to the shelters and no where is no body in the sand.
I wonder if the English is happy because there faces have not an expression. I suppose the English are understanding the English, I wish I was understanding. Briton is a very poplar town and there are meny antiquayted shops wear you can separate from your money with old junks. I seen some Americans who was very exciting when they bort as big white pot with a handel called a chamber pot. There is along bilding which goes rite out in the sea and it is cald Briton pear and I walked on top of it and sawed the sea under my foot.
Your interest son,
Iziz
