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not for his wife. While I don't know, I believe his wife and Wendy are still here in Erie. So starts another chapter in the tragic story of Bob Walsh and his family. When I hear of this it makes me sorry I took so many cracks at Bob about his laziness. No wonder, if he had T.B. coming on! It goes to show once more the wisdeom of that rule - "Speak ill of no man; speak the best you know of every man." Erie, Pa. Saturday, Nov. 19. '38. Today was a miserable one for me; I reaped the reward (I suspect) of that Ainlay affair the sea food dinner in particular; egged on probably by a combination of highball, nuts, apple pie, ice cream and coffee at the Downies' last night. My whole insides seemed on fire all day and I was periodically nauseated, bloated, and utterly miserable all day long. And the worst of it was, we had the party all lined up for tonight to show the Scarborough Party movies. Went downtown in the morning and was afraid I'd shoot my breakfast before I got home; got a ticket for parking where prohibited also, just for good measure; it was entirely unintentional too. Ate some bread and milk for lunch and then lay down. Felt better for a while and then had to arise and drive Bab and some friends to the Peninsula for Jane Sides picnic for the music class. I was afraid again that I should lose my lunch on the way. So I took the bull by the horns, got a pint of citrate of magnesia on the way home and gulped it down. It had me in misery for a couple of hours but then I began to straighten out, and was in fair shape for the party although forced to make a dive for the bathroom occasionally. And it made my