Viewing page 65 of 184

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

[[preprinted]] 
[[double line]]
Tuesday, May 5, 1908 
[[line]]
[[/preprinted]]

The summer crop of funerals has commenced. This afternoon we saw the band gathering over across the cantonments, and sure enough, they started off with Chopin. One of the lieutenants of the Bedfordshires. This makes the third one at camp since I've been here, with more at Point. Schirmer says last summer they had one almost every other day,- proceedings which must have been slightly depressing, I should say.

They don't give you much time to get up out here. If you cash in in the morning, you're put to bed with a shovel before sundown. They never put off till tomorrow, etc., etc.

[[end page]]
[[start page]]

[[preprinted]] 
[[double line]]
Wednesday, May 6, 1908 
[[line]]
[[/preprinted]]

Bunny will drive me crazy yet. This is the second time he's said he would send over the spondulix for those goods in the godown, and he hasn't done it. The old sod, I'd like to put a left swing into that bay window "that precedes him by fifteen minutes wherever he goes" (like Cyrano's nose) - I would, only I'm afraid my fist would go in so far I'd lose it. But I'll get to him yet, all right.

By gum, he is a terrible trial, and no mistake. Coupled with the hot weather it's enough to upset Job himself.

Ikey has flown. Bum voyage, old sport!