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[[preprinted] Friday, August 20, 1909 [[/preprinted]]

It seems to be a hopeless task trying to keep up a diary these days. Never, before this year, since this journal [[strikethrough] [[?]] [[/strikethrough]] issued it's first copy, some thirteen or fourteen years ago, do we come across these large arid spaces, such as we find it this volume.

Unless some of our delinquent subscribers pay up, this old rag of freedom is a goner.

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[[preprinted]] Saturday, August 21, 1909 [[/preprinted]]

By gum, I forgot to mention, the other day, that I got a letter from Dike, saying he'd sold the Roosevelt pictures for $108. One hundred and eight bones! We each pull down 41.50! Well, well, are we the people? A little on the side, like that, comes in real handy to buy the baby shoes. I won 32 and some odd chips at Bridge last month, too. It all comes in nicely, and every little bit helps.

Auction makwisha. Sweet Fanny Adams for ours. Beaver St. has got to increase, that's all.