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[[preprinted]] Saturday, April 24, 1909 [[/preprinted]] Went out sailing with Butti this afternoon. Don't be alarmed, Butti is an old sea dog, and wouldn't drown me for worlds. Butti has been in the damndest collection of places in the Staks that I ever heard tell of. Norfolk, Va., Galverston, and Frisco. Never saw another glimpse of our gee-lorious country except those three spots, — and in relation to the positions they occupy in our national map, I was rather curious to find out how he worked it. Simplest thing in the world. Butti made two trips from London to Frisco in a sailer, around the "Horn". By gum, it must have been rather dull as far as shore leave went. [[end page]] [[start page]] [[preprinted]] Sunday, April 25, 1909 [[/preprinted]] Last night I dined with the redoubtable Macdonald, M. D. My store clothes are working this week. I enjoyed myself, of course, but oh, I do miss not getting into my little bunk at 9:30. That is the chief charm of living out here. Finished "Lorna Doone". I can't say I was enthusiastic over it, — it cannot be compared in any way to "Adam Bede". Well, I've commenced burrowing into the mysteria of the mysterious M. Chuzzlewit, Esq., and feel sure my time is going to be well taken up. It's a Dickens of a book.