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[[preprinted]] Thursday, December 8, 1910 [[/preprinted]]

For the last week I've been feeling just like a man who's going to be hanged, with the date for my shuffling off this mortal coil set for tomorrow. (Just what "mortal coil" means, I don't know). Them tourist folks are due, brite and early, on the "Admiral".

Edith Clarke is in town, and damned if she and Rayne didn't do up Grace and meself at tennis this afternoon. She's made a hit down here. I asked her to stay and be the Belle of Zanzibar, but she says she's going back to P.H. on Monday. 

For the benefit of my wife and children at home I want to explain that Grace is [[underlined]] his last name, and not her first! [[/underlined]]

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[[preprinted]] Friday, December 9, 1910 [[/preprinted]]

Weddell and I went off to the "Admiral" at eight bells and greeted the bunch in the name of the USA. and AC&Co. And after that we didn't give 'em a minutes rest until they laid 'em down to sleep at 11:30. We kept them going, and they did us. I should certainly say so. 

Through the bazaar, the big market, the shops, over to Prison Island, after tea at Weddels, takin' pictures, everywhere, and dinner at the house, and I s'pose a lot of things I've forgotten, all in one day. 

They were evidently pleased from the go-off. That's philosophy. 

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