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like being home. The hill outside the office was icy, and the first and last thingI recall, was horses sliding down that hill, tangled in their harness, or hung in their shafts. Drivers cursing and lashing them. When we walked into the office, George opened a door half way down a stairway. There was Clayt, arms extended to grab "Speevy". "Speevy the high diver" he had dubbed Buddie for the three fellows were always tossing Buddie around like he was a ball, and them there were those "wing overs" down the steps in Lorain. Another horse started sliding down the hill and Clayt said he was all for calling it a day, his nerves were on edge, anticipating the next horse to fall, and try frantically to regain its footing. We had some more fun with the pretty vivacious stenographer, then went to the Copley-Plaza hotel, where the boys were registered. We had all the Eskimo Pies we could eat, for part of the job was to walk into stores, purchase an Eskimo Pie, analyze the confection, so as to see whether the dealer had used his recipe correctly, by not putting too much cocoa butter in the chocolate covering and cornstarch in the icecream. We tipped the hotel maids with chocolate or Eskimo Pies. Another brother, Phil, was in N.Y. and after many happy evenings with new found poker playing friends, we took the boat for N.Y. The first thing I would do, when living away from the East, was to take a ferry boat ride and ride on top of a bus. Clayt saw us off.... I thought he looked lost, and wished he had had Sam, for I felt selfish having both George and Buddie, and I knew what it meant to feel lonely. We put Buddie in theupper berth, where he could watch the lights go by, while George and I could go on "explores" tacking back to see him, often. George and I initiated the boat in lover-like fashion, finding all the dark corners, and even crawling in a life boat, under the tarpaulin. We had a year of being apart for such long spells that we made up for it. We tried to hold the night