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Monday, January 20, 1908
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Oh, this was a hard day! I didn't have any New York mail yesterday, but I made it up by a page to Zanzibar and one to Mombasa.

He said he was somewhat sprung when he got home last night, and he amused himself by sweeping all the crockery in sight off the shelves and onto the floor. Then he told us about his head, and gave us the old slogan, "never again". That's what they all say.  They hang on for a spell [[strikethrough]] until [[/strikethrough]] then the wagon runs over a loose cobblestone, and they're jolted blissfully off again. I know

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Tuesday, January 21, 1908
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Today was another strenuous one.  Finally, at two, I decided that I'd worked so hard that I must needs sleep all the afternoon.  After a little nap I woke up at half-past four and grasping my trusty tennis bat I won the postponed set in three games. After that we quit at six all. Hard work.  She said "I'll never speak to George again." "Why?" asked t'other. "He called me 'thirty, love" right in front of everybody, and he knows I'm not a day over twenty-two."