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[[preprinted]] Friday, February 21, 1908 [[/preprinted]] 's truth! But damme if that offer of yesterday didn't go through! Add 500 to the score, Bo. We're certainly running the pants off these other dubs in town. We've got em lapped half a dozen times already. Nothing else doing. I wish something would really happen. Smith and I sat up on the roof in our longchairs tonight, under the star-lit dome (that's good) and listened to the band in the mess. That cornet is still ailin'. [[end page]] [[start page]] [[preprinted]] Saturday, February 22, 1908 [[/preprinted]] Beat it over to Bazara's today to see if he wouldn't buy something. He would, but he wanted us to throw in about one quarter baksheesh. So we executed a flank movement toward the door, and beat it. Went down to Bond's tonight for dinner. I yelled across the festive board while the Doc was saying grace, but I didn't spill anything on my shirtfront or step on anyone's feet, so I made a fair average, at that. I hadn't heard grace since [[strikethrough]] [[?]] [[/strikethrough]] Cleveland was elected. How was I to know?