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We hurried back to Basin Harbor sans the usual beer so I could keep a tennis date with Dominey.  And while I thought he was pretty punk yesterday in the exhibition, I found I was far worse.  He simply toyed with me and I never took a game.  It was my first tennis in a year - I got in a few good shots but I was pretty lousy.  I've concluded I'd better call it quits on any serious tennis from now on.  I'll play doubles when occasion demands such as with Jay Walker and Phil Hatch but otherwise, I think I'll concentrate on golf.
After lunch we put the new horseshoes into action with Nelson, the one armed fellow, and Brant, a newcomer who looks like a Jew but I don't think is one.  Nelson is remarkable - plays, golf, tennis, bridge, horseshoes - and all well - and all with one hand.  They say he lost his arm in an accident some years ago.  And he lost his right arm.
While I was playing tennis before lunch with Dominey, a brown car pulled up beside the court and a woman yelled, "Hello, Forie."  I looked and couldn't figure for a moment who it was - suddenly I realized it was Barbara and Charlie and Chickie Reed!  I sent them off to locate Willie at the cottage while I finished the tennis, and met them later.  They are en route to Connecticutt to spend ten days with Barbara's sister, Katherine, and Si. They left after lunch so it wasn't much of a visit but it was a pleasant surprise.
In the meantime Rog had caught a perch about 8 inches long and marched proudly into the dining room with it at lunch time much to the