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[[preprinted]]Saturday, August 28, 1909[[/preprinted]]

We've had two mails from home and three mails going home, all in the past four days. That combined with having to get off an ivory shipment at a days' notice, has kept me rather busy lately.
On referring to the Bridge Ledger over in the Club tonight, I find I'm fortyone chips to the good this month. That bein' the case, methinks we'll rest on our laurels until the 1[[underlined]] [[superscript]]st[[/superscript]] [[/underlined]] prox., and then start a fresh deck.

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[[preprinted]]Sunday, August 29, 1909[[/preprinted]]

Absolutely nothing doing today. I went downstairs and puttered over the books and steamship schedules - one of my greatest pleasures here is mapping out expensive routes to get home by - until tea time, and then after a few chapters of Conan Doyle on the S. African fracas, we took the pup out for a walk. Now I'm simply waiting for the dinner-gong, and half past nine.

'Struth, but this is the strenuous life.