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[[preprinted]] Monday, September 19, 1910 [[/preprinted]]

Got that camera from Schirmer this morning - also [[strikeout]] a dozen [[strikeout]] tins of marmalade. No wonder the Englishmen are wild at the German's, when the latter can beat 'em putting up jam. Next thing, we'll hear'll be that the Germans beat 'em by three wickets on the first day. No, on second thought, we won't, - the Germans have got too damned much sense to play cricket.

As for the "roast beef of old England" that has been grown pretty well in the USA. these last few decades and generations

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[[preprinted]] Tuesday, September 20, 1910 [[/preprinted]]

Weddell and I have vindicated ourselves. We put it over that Manchester pair four straight sets today, and without more than half trying. Incidently I got five dibs on the side. It wasn't so bad.

Weddell is a great man for poetry. I am, meself, in a way, but I prefer Carolyn Wells' stuff to any of Tennyson's or Browning's, don't you? Them guys were all right, but they'd never be able to turn out anything these days that breakfast food manufacturers would pay for to paste up in street-cars, would they? Not so's you'd notice it.

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