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Friday, April 3, 1908 
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I thought I'd left the dentist behind when I left America, but don't you fool yourself. He got me into his chair this morning and gave me the whole performance over again. I love to have holes bored in my teeth, I do. The only thing that could give me greater pleasure is paying the bill. 

Smith dined with me tonight, and afterwards Naish & Nocentini blew in. We had four rubbers, and the host skinned 'em alive. I had all kinds of luck, - two grand slams; one little, I think; and got four or five tricks several times. The gods were good.
 
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Saturday, April 4, 1908
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The tennis wallahs struck yesterday when they found a ^[[dark]] man lurking among the shady bowers of the tennis ground. We learned from the boys that the man puts chloroform over their noses, lugs 'em down to the Masonic Temple (Bait al Shaitan) where they string 'em up by their heels, cut their throats, and make their blood into medicine. A dainty proceeding, that, Brothers. However, this is the time for the Gebater fests, I hear, and I guess that's what it's all about. Last year I hear they had a riot at the point, and had to call out the Tommies. Hot times in ye olde Aden towne.
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