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[[preprinted]] Thursday, February 9, 1911 [[/preprinted]] Still laid up with that thing, whatever it is. Felt like a meal this morning, but bin still on barley-water and Perrier and milk. There's a new drink over in the club, they tell me. "606!" (Soda and milk.) [[end page]] [[start page]] [[preprinted]] Friday, February 10, 1911 [[/preprinted]] I'm up this morning, and hope I stay there. Lunch never tasted better than it did today. Two weeks from today, me bucko, and I set sail for home! Knock wood! after these last two days. First game of bridge tonight for about seven months. We played 8 as. worth, and I'm glad, for I had the rottenest assortment of hands I ever saw.