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rite. Whee! Rain in sheets, poor Buck--out in the open to catch it. He gets the sensations back there too. The castor oil has blown back until he is quite frecklled. Seems as if we are on a heavy sea. [[strikethrough]] He [[/strikethrough]]The chimney is sending out some smoke. Gosh that left wing goes up and down a lot. Maybe I should not have eaten that [[strikethrough]] brea [[/strikethrough]] breakfast. Well -- and the only place is out the window-- 5000ft. C.D. tells me. My handkerchief never looked smaller. O-o-o-o-oo-h$' How must the poor whale have felt -- before and after --
much later.
Wotdidjashay? When I looked down those 5000 on the inside of a bank and my internals were quarreling so -- it settled the argument. The answer to the whales feelings is"; such a relief, thank you." [[strikethrough]] Hpoe [[/strikethrough]] Hope they have some gas to use for cleaning purposes at Bryan. Bud was sick too. Rotten aviators family We deserve to be dis-owned. 
Bryan, Oh.Io. 

Dear Diary-
The ground felt good. Oh wotiz a little mud? So much oil on the fusilage that the ship has changed color. THE rag if full--of oil. Some kind individual with perception took us riding around town in their car and we all feel better. Some storms they were and I don't think they are "spoofing". This is one of the few and first air mail stops. The radio operator sends the weather reports thru. Buck says some day they will have stations and real service all over the country. The "boys" were sorry to see us leave -- must be lonely so far out. We have a tin pail as part of our equipment now -- ha~ ha! Izzat so! ( Gotta chance to hug my "Buckerino" while seeing Bryan)
Here we go -- good-by little shed -- with a gas pump - and willing help[[strikethrough]] ers [[/strikethrough]] -- everybody feels related in aviation. It is LIVING ------
Some day lights and runways and a terminal at these stops -- five years back it was necessary to go into town for the gas. Anything can happen if you want it really enough?
Lorain is next. Buck hurt his face and wiped the follicles off his nose in the WACO- COOTIE, the first ship built by the Weaver Aircraft Co. The motor conked out in a fog and he hit the ditch alongside the field. Must not remember that. We were glad he had his sight. 
Bud is cutting out pictures and pasteis all over us. Now "dear pipples" if my Mother had been told when I was born that some day I would be riding 6500 ft. up in the air alone she problably would have thot "poor goof" -- or what ever they used for such sentiments in the late nineties--- much less had they told her that her one and only grandson would be making scrap books up in the air 6500 ft, I expect she would have thot that in a few minutes the dangerous stage of a softening of the brain was due to burst forth.