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[[preprinted]] Friday, March 31, 1911 [[/preprinted]] 28th(continued) by a boy with a pole. The same Spanish peasants and general fixin's, as at the Canaries. But Madeira and Funchal itself, [[strikethrough]] even) [[/strikethrough]] is quaint and pretty, and expensive. It is a goodly island, and well favored,- all but the cholera, which is enough to frighten anyone for the time being. [[line]] Our bad weather left us on losing sight of the islands. We made Finisterre in due course, and after a smooth passage across the dreaded Bay, sighted Ushant this morning (31st), and the dim coast of Devon just before six. Loafing in the channel until tomorrow morning. [[end page]] [[start page]] [[preprinted]] Saturday, April 1, 1911 [[/preprinted]] Well done, "Norman"! She landed us safe after our 7000 miles on board, feeling fit, and after a most enjoyable voyage. Left on the boat train, and made Waterloo at ten or thereabouts. Colder'n hell. I left my luggage at the Grand, went over to the office and drew some money. An overcoat and some thick underclothing and sox immediately, which I lost no time in getting into. I saw a damfine show at the Palace in the evening, and one of the worst turns was Maud Allan. Damned if I see where she's anything so extry graceful. She hopped and gambolled around the stage in a yard of chiffon and a
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