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Sunday, May 17, 1908
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I was busy putting on my tennis togs this afternoon when Slingsby appeared in the doorway. I rubbed my eyes. It sure was. He said he'd been ordered back to London in a hurry, and he'd landed in Aden on the "Herzog" an hour or two back. With him was Ennis. They stayed to dinner, and then Schirmer and I escorted them down to the boat and after a parting smile, we beat it back to shore. Slingsby passed through here on his way out only five months ago. It must cost AC&Co. a heap of money to shift these fellers around. 

I expect I'll go down Zanzibar on an hour's notice one of these fine days. 

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Monday, May 18, 1908
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By gum, but I do wish business would buck up. I have about as large a capacity as the next man for sitting around on my gluteus maximus and taking life easy, but this really does grow wearisome at times. I've finished a small sized library within the past month. I tackled De Quincey's confessions of an English Opium Eater" the other day, and it was mighty interesting, although different from the dope dream it promised to be from it's title.  He was a writer born, that guy.  Peculiar diet, his'n.