Viewing page 162 of 184

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

[[preprinted]] Monday, November 28, 1910 [[/preprinted]]

Nothin' to chronicle save the mail from home. I think "chronicle" is the word, but if it ain't, why, it makes no never mind.

Business pretty slow these days. Cotton prices have jumped again, and it'll be some little time before this market screws up the necessary courage, and then they've put our ivory limits under the sofa, where it takes a magnifyin' glass to find 'em. There's too much of it just at present. Meanwhile the opposition still have a lot on exhibition, - that lot that came from Mombasa around last March. Jo won't "need" any more for some time.

[[end page]]
[[start page]]

[[preprinted]] Tuesday, November 29, 1910 [[/preprinted]]

Pretty much nothing doing again today. Went to bed early, - saving up for tomorrow night. I suppose that will be somewhat of a tight, but I'm coming home sober if it takes a leg. Ever been married like that, boys? Nothing like it, even if you must behave yourself.

Raining like the devil these days. All the month. Rather heavy for the usual rains this time of year. It's damned inconvenient as far as skins are concerned, but the cloves must be thriving on it. But thriving on cloves is another thing, wot, Jo?