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New York, N.Y.
Saturday, Sept. 17, 1938,
When I went to the Ticket Agency in the hotel this morning to get the two tickets I ordered last night for the tennis matches, they informed me none were to be had. My heart sank. It was beautiful out, sunny and warm and I had made the date with Collis - now no tickets. If I'd only let it go at that, all would have been well, but I didn't. I grabbed the Classified Telephone Directory, got a list of ticket agencies and sallied forth, knowing I was about to be gypped by them, but willing to do anything to come through. At a place on West 45th, I picked up a couple without any difficulty if you overlook the price - $5.00 each vs. $2.75 regular price. Five was the maximum I had in mind and the Jew must have read my thoughts for he sang out - "FIVE DOLLARS." when I inquired. I still had no regrets. In fact, I was quite relieved and somewhat elated at my resourcefulness. 

So I met Collis Bowers at his office at noon over in the Charmin Bldg. Was quite impressed by an autographed photo of Calvin Coolidge on the wall - "To my good friend, Frank K. Bowers - Calvin Coolidge" - and another from Herbert Hoover. Bowers was a bit pale as usual - not too well looking - and said he'd been laid up for a week by displacing his "saccirilliac" (that's how it sounds) playing tennis with Bud, his boy. So we get a bite at the Oyster Bar and beat it for Forest Hills. Before we left, it was clouding up and, while neither of us had a coat, Collis grabbed an umbrella at the office. As we progressed toward Forest Hills on the Long Island, the weather looked less and less propitious. But we got into the Stadium in time to see practically the whole last set of the Wynne-Brundy