This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.
[[preprinted]] Tuesday, June 16, 1908 [[/preprinted]] I started to make a call on Schmidtt tonight, but found the doorway wreathed in darkness, and discreetly withdrew. I should never have known what that meant [[strikethrough]] if [[/strikethrough]] without living in Aden. We learn new things every day, don't we? Getting hama, boys. No sleep before tomorrow morning these nights. [[end page]] [[start page]] [[preprinted]] Wednesday, June 17, 1908 [[/preprinted]] We certainly had a taste of the monsoon today. It blew like merry hell, out the maidan was foggy with dust. I was trying to write the NY. mail, but I couldn't get half a dozen lines tied down before the paper had minature sand dunes all over it. Yep, I begin to suspect we're going to have a tolerably Aden-like summer, after all. Let it come and do its woist. We're on.