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never know what a hell of a life that was for me— particularly in Paris.
I shall shun it like the pestelence if I ever set foot in Europe again, even for a day, I think.

Tues Morning before breakfast.

Been out planting rose[[strikethrough]]s[[/strikethrough]] bushes along the fence we put up for my aunt.

The spring is so wonderful and recolections and desires, songs and I don't know what not, crowd so thick I feel as if I should