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pessimistically when I was alone with him but in company of the others, he seemed as jolly as ever and from what he said then, I gathered they were pretty happy. She is a sweet kid and he adores her and I guess that goes a long way toward making life tolerable. I only wish he would strike pay dirt somehow in his business life. He is a perfect example of someone ruined by too much money as a youngster. He didn't have to do anything he didn't want to do or stay at any job that didn't suit him just so. And this condition now is a direct result of it.

Erie, Pa.,
Sunday, Oct. 8, 1939.
A rainy, gray, warm oppressive day which, combined with Rog and Bab's wild antics got on my nerves until I thought I'd have to do something desperate to calm myself down. Had a very unexpected and unpleasant old time set-to with Mother last night too which served to upset me more than I expected today. So all in all, I was snappy, morose and I imagine quite unpleasant to everyone all day. And I shouldn't be that way, particularly in view of recent developments which should make me exactly the opposite. One thing today that irked me particularly was an incident in connection with Bab's bike, which has had a flat rear tire for a week or so. I finally got around to taking the wheel off to take up to Ray Fellbringer and I had a hell of a time getting it off. When I finally did get it removed after much sweating, inward cursing, bruises, etc. Rog stepped up to announce the tire wasn't punctured at all - he had simply let the air out of it in retaliation for something