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although on the 19th floor of the Commodore, and 11 PM, it is hot as the devil here in my room right now. Am encouraged about my writing. I turned down a chance to go to the Village tonight and am here writing the journal, something that at one time would have been very difficult to do.

New York, N.Y.
Aug. 24, 1938.
Had a good night's sleep by lying naked on top of a sheet and nothing over me. Got up at 8 AM and spent the day at the office during which I wrote a letter to Ralston on loading of the new engines & Jim Smith signed it. As I expected, Bob got in at 5:30 AM after a session at the studio of Ernest Townsend, his artist friend whom he met in Maine and then a tour of the Village. So Bob didn't get to work till after lunch and was sorry he hadn't followed my example. He said last night he thought I was getting old but he decided afterward I was just wise and I think for once I was. We rode 0364 up on #376, the millionaire's commuter special and got an excellent set of thermo readings. The fireman steamed up the boiler and our ventilation scheme works like a charm, a satisfactory outcome for me because I took the iniative in the thing and worked it out practically single handed in June. The engines look good.
Had luncheon with Taft at the Hawaiian Room at the Lexington and enjoyed a swell visit with him including the latest news of Shanty Shane for he was there last weekend. A newcomer lady from Worcester took him over at horseshoes among other things. Another good one was that while Jean

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