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[[preprinted]] Sunday, April 18, 1909 [[/preprinted]]

Another one of those miserable days. Like Brer Fox, I lay low, and only ventured out at five for a little stroll with the Asst. Mgr. 

I don't know as you've read Joel Chandler Harris' yarns about Brer Fox and Brer Rabbit, and Brer Tarrypin, if you haven't, you must get on with it at once. They are about the most entertaining stories I ever read. 

Started "Lorna Doone" today. Have always wanted to read it, and know it is going to be fine, though I don't expect a second "Adam Bede." I consider that the most wonderfully written story in English literature. 

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[[preprinted]] Monday, April 19, 1909 [[/preprinted]]

As I said a few days back, American holidays aren't celebrated much out in these British parts. There wasn't no excoursions to Lexington today, no "double headers", no Marathon races, nor no nuthin'. Instead, it kept right on raining, — damme if I'm not thoroughly fed up on "big rains." They've been at it about a month now, and according to [[dast?]] they'll keep on for another. Bad cess to 'em and divil fly away wid 'em say I. 

Our own Aprils, at home, are bad enough, let alone the monsoon.