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Wednesday, March 4, 1908
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I had rather a big mail today for a little feller. Four pages of tooting my own horn, my monthly accounts, several account sales, and the usual mess of copies and translations and other enclosures besides. I hope they'll be properly impressed that I'm working like fans in flytime. I have been hitting it up lately, I will admit.

I got onto Parker's figuring 13 days on those London drafts today. I went over and registered a kick and got a rebate of two quid and fifteen bob some. Those three extra days were too much of a good thing.

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Thursday, March 5, 1908
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The wintry winds are still with us. The past two afternoons it's been blowing so hard that tennis has been almost out of the question. I woke up this morning about three, I guess, it was, and it made me inmost soul shudder to hear the weather shriek and groan as it did. I'm sure glad I'm not travelling to Bombay these days. It must be slick on the water.

Riés told me he saw my name up on the board at the Club down to the Point. I hope I'm not turned down, but black balls are about the most uncertain-tist things in this globule of ours.