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Tuesday, April 21, 1908 
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Bunny is up to his old dodges again.  He sent over some coin to the Bank for me today ^promptly at five minutes of three, and his man came around at five looking for a receipt. I worked the "bookra" gag, and he told me they had holidays tomorrow and day after. So I took the opportunity of explaining that if he couldn't send his filthy lucre in decent season he could go to bed without his receipt.

I bet he laughed all over his face when his man handed him my wrathy speech.  You can't jar the old man except by picking his pocket by selling to Adamally.
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Wednesday, April 22, 1908 
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Yes, we wrote two pages to the Works, but that's about all. 

^When I was over calling on Bunny one day ^about a month ago, he gave us a song and dance about some rank cotton the mills had palmed off on him last fall, and carried on most orful [[sic]].  Now I learn from Bond he's been down to see him about it, and he's going to rush the mill for damages. You'd think hell had been frozen over to hear 'em go on about it. Whether anything will happen is more than I know, but I'm a bit leary when all the circumstances are bunched and piped. Our friend B. is a crafty, oily cuss, more or less.
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