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Tuesday, January 14, 1908 
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Eben al Selim took unto himself a wife today. They dug her up for a millionare's bride right here in Aden. I never saw one here yet that would get into the semi-finals. I guess they kept her locked up until she was ripe, and then delivered the goods for a fair margin. Thats the recognized procedure out here.

It isn't so [[strikethrough]] brutal [[/strikethrough]] drastic as the old way of clouting the dear one on the knob with a piece of lead pipe and dragging her off to the bridal chamber by the hair of her head, and yet isn't so sickly as 

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Wednesday, January 15, 1908 
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Ams Mohamedan New Year. The gang was downstairs, with fond remembrances of Ramadan and cowajer baksheesh, hoping that history would repeat itself. They were togged out in purple dye-cloth from head to foot, every time they moved the color came off in chunks. They stood pat on the Ramadan precedent, but Smith and I stood patter. The banshee declined to perambulate.

14th (continued) [[strikethrough]]the [[/strikethrough]] our spooning couples and the nursery talk that ducky talks to wucky in, - it has some merit, the Eastern way, - as a happy medium at least. 
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