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Saturday do you have it for tea on Sunday night with shaved beef and stewed peaches.  I often long for a hunk of smoked beef; it would be such a convenience. Only we have no knife sharp enough to shave it except the swedish one (Uncle Will will remember it) and it is full of knotches - May and I would simply have to go home if anything happened to that knife—  The other day during lunch at the studio I saw that the fire needed raking and looked all about for the poker - May was raking with it - that is the Swedish knife—    I am more sick of fires than the Lady of Shallott was of shadows—  The old days before Ames the 1st were nothing to it—  I had a coal skuttle and a poker and a sun-bonnet - now I have neither 

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I have only An Amsden's gloves and I do a lot of picking over coal—  
I am going to try Coke now which is cheaper and throw all the blanked ashes away when the fire goes out - which it has to be allowed to do every night - such hands as I have. 

Nothing interesting has happened this week. And my life is as narrow just now as it is at home - as I go from the house to the studio and back and we see very few people—  L.K has been posing faithfully for the last three days and is coming again tomorrow—  She is very much interested and thinks its "lovely" - and will pose as many times as I want—  She sits perched up on a platform on a camp-chair with two cushions which fill it up to a level with the top of the back—  And has a