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March 11, 1905.

My dear Sargent:-

Your welcome letter from Egypt reached me in due time. It made a remarkably fast trip across the pond and I read and re-read it, wishing that I might be with the writer in those far off lands where there is so much to interest an archaeological crank.

Your letter came so very long ago that it really seems like recalling ancient history. Unrolling a papyrus as it were recalling the records of deeds done in by one days. I am heartily ashamed of myself for not answering sooner but it has been one of those pleasant tasks that are always deferred, the procrastination account being balanced with an underlined plea of not enough time to write the long account of wanderings, interesting finds, etc., that we want to unload. My desk is covered with material that should be cleared up this beautiful Saturday morning but your letter stared me in the face as it has done for weeks and I have therefore thrown business aside to spend a few minutes with you and, incidentally, free myself from the accusing stare of those two Egyptian stamps on the envelope.

Your letter brought news and some surprises but
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