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[[preprinted]] Wednesday, June 15, 1910 [[/preprinted]]

After tennis today we [[strikethrough]] sent [[/strikethrough]] brought over some caviar sandwiches. "Huh", says Slipp, "Looks just like dead flies!"

B., of the Bank, sprung a nice verse on us today about the maid who was in the parlor, "the carpet she was mending." Unfortunately I can't write the rest of it here, but I don't mind reciting it for you. 

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[[preprinted]] Thursday, June 16, 1910 [[/preprinted]]

Went down to the Club tonight- Slipp had a [[strikethrough]] spare [[/strikethrough]] vacant seat in his gharri, and I must admit a tikker gharri at three dibs with the club at the other end of it, is not an alluring proposition. Well, I won ten points from the Mrs. General after I got there, anyway.

Afterwards went up to the Consulate for dinner. Mrs. Moser is nice but [[strikethrough]] [[?]] [[/strikethrough]] we local melicans miss the general naturalness and extra niceness of Mrs. Bond. One can't help remembering her.

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