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Friday, June 26, 1908
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95 1/2

One more day went and nothing did. But I 'as 'opes.

Today was the King's birthday. Fudge and fury! I wondered what that was chasin' up and down my spine when I got up this morning. Ned has made good all right in the King business so far, but he certainly has a past that would have put a rope around his ^[[political]] neck in about two speeches if he'd [[strikeout]] [[unreadable]] [[/strikeout]] done his running over [[strikethrough]] on Broadway [[/strikethrough]] ^[[Tremont St. way.]] We stand for graft and glory in it, but there is a point where we draw the line. It's a great thing to be born to a job. 

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Saturday, June 27, 1908
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96

It was a beautiful drive down to the Point this afternoon. The dust was flying like hell-bent-for-election and the sun had fried everything to a crisp. Stopped in to see Murray for a moment, and then beat it to Bond's. They punched a hole in my meal ticket and put me aboard the 11:30 for Camp. Consulate flag at half-mast,- Cleveland's dead. We have no living ex-President now. Teddy will be our next, in March, and according to present indications he'll be on deck for some considerable time to come. Vote for Taft and Sherman, boy! Big Bill is the merchandise.