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Shanty Shane
Aug. 11, 1938.
Had a storm last night. Fortunately I had the foresight to put the car in a garage overnight. Woke up at 5 AM under four blankets again. The wind was howling and the rain falling hard. I paraded around the cottage and closed all the windows. Then crawled back into bed to wait for Walter to build a fire, which he did about 6:45 AM. We pulled into breakfast about 8:15, which is late for us; we usually eat at the gong about 7:30. It was a cold, drizzly foggy morning and apparently the 11 o'clock plane from Montreal to Boston, which goes over us like clockwork every day, was either cancelled or rerouted as we heard no sound of it. I spent the morning on the porch of the lodge talking to Mr. Taft., who asked me over to his cottage for a "snifter" before lunch with Campbell and Dr. Atwell. Had a good jolt of Scotch which tasted very satisfying on this awful day. The clouds gathered around the mountains across the lake and hid everything for a while.

This afternoon we drove to Bradford for some paper dolls for Bab and a swimming tube for Rog. Got the former but were unsuccessful at the latter and all the Fairlee stores were closed on account of the Fairlee Fair today. Rog apparently got car sick on the way and complained when we got back but after a short rest was up and at 'em again. When we got back, we found the Tafts ready to leave for the Fair; they had just been entertaining some priests who dropped in to see the place – the priests came in just as Mrs. Taft drew a straight flush in an informal poker game which they cooked up after lunch. The Tafts aren't Catholic. Mr. Taft said re the poker – "Oh, that was all right; I've played poker with priests over on the ocean."

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