Viewing page 73 of 184

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

[[preprinted]] Thursday, May 21, 1908 [[/preprinted]]

I rushed down to Bond's this afternoon. First time I'd been out in years. Couldn't very well appear in the scintillating brilliancy of Aden society with a head about as prolific as a china door-knob. But Bond's is the U.S., where convention gets it more or less in the neck and the common people enjoy life accordingly.  Mrs. B. read us a little, had dinner, and then decamped to Camp. The Bonds are sure-enough people.

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

[[preprinted]] Friday, May 22, 1908 [[/preprinted]]

I record the exciting fact that Smith took me out behind the long wall and walloped me nine up in nine holes. I did nothing but hack dents in the atmosphere goin' and comin'. As Geo. Ade says, "He couldn't jump out of a boat and hit the water." Punk was the name for us, all right.

I think I'll have to study up the Consular Service if the cotton business doesn't "biz" some soon. It wouldn't be a bad idea, you know. I haven't unloaded a bale since the Ark grounded.