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[[preprinted]] Saturday, June 19, 1909 [[/preprinted]] Was over to Butti's for dinner tonight, and took away all the Bridge proceeds. Just like finding a nickel in an old coat that'd been hangin' up for years. I'll pay my little club bill this month, if I keep on. However, that isn't much, for I never go over in the darned place except to get a book out or take it back. That ante-dinner alcoholic brunch gets my goat. I'd rather enjoy my dinner than the rickeys over in the club. It lasts longer. [[end page]] [[start page]] [[preprinted]] Sunday, June 20, 1909 [[/preprinted]] Aw, gee, what's the use of tryin' to keep a diary these days? Nothing ever happens, and it's a devil of a job to keep these pages filled up even [[strikethrough]] if [[/strikethrough]] with the kind of rot I stick in 'em. Not a darned thing to write about, from one week's end to another's. Some day this ancient and honored institution of ours is going to bust up with a bang, and it will be a hell of a lot of bother off my mind when it does.