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This afternoon I had one of those brief experiences that gives a very unpleasant thrill. We stopped the car so Rog could get out and pick some red pre-autumn leaves. They were across a ditch and the tree in some tall weeds and I went along to help him because he was stymied for a moment by small bug on a weed in his path. As we stood in the undergrowth, I felt something against my leg and thought it was of weed rubbing me - I looked again and still thought so and dismissed it from my mind. Suddenly I felt a terrific, pinching pain on my penis. I rubbed it and it went away only to be followed by another jab. I leaped out of the grass and getting behind the car, pulled out and there on the soft, tender flesh near the end was a black bug and at first I couldn't brush it off! Finally I picked it off bodily - it seemed to be fastened on! For the next few minutes I had visions of being poisoned - I thought of various forms of spiders - I was so excited when I saw the thing. I didn't recall just what it was like. But as time passed and the creeping paralysis of some deadly poison failed to materialize, my agitation subsided and when I got home, there was hardly a mark to show where the thing had bitten me. Erie, Pa., Tuesday, Sept. 3, 1940. Shapter got back today but so far as I know Whitey didn't interview him - if he did he failed to tell me. I had occasion to speak to Shap about a proposition in the afternoon and got civil but extremely disinterested response. It wouldn't surprise me if Whitey never followed through, having