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[[preprinted]] Tuesday, August 20, 1907 [[/preprinted]]

That old stinker and I started the fireworks today. I touched 'em off by asking him what he intended to do about my vacation money. He said he'd let me know in a few days. It begins to look as if I would discharge Clements Saturday. I hope I never see his miserly mug after that day. But I've no job yet, and I'd best not go too fast just now.

Louis and I had lunch at the Old English Room today, and in the evening went to see "The Green Bird" at the Majestic Show only fair.

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[[preprinted]] Wednesday, August 21, 1907 [[/preprinted]]

I don't think there was much doing, in the physical sense, today, but I got a letter from Dike and he told me to chuck up my job at the end of the week, and that Uncle Dwight wanted me to go back to New York. I get through with that jaundiced old skinflint next Saturday, sure as guns. I don't know about that Manhattan idea, though. I have a holy dread of that burg. New York as a steady proposition never appealed to me.