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Nov 30 - 1923.

Yesterday, being Thanksgiving, I was in a frame of mind which causes one to remember ones many blessings. I thought of you and yours and of all that you have done to make life worth while and this morning George G. gave me the cigar that you sent me as a reminder of the great day. I want to thank you for this thought and [[strikethrough]] and [[/strikethrough]] for it puts me in the position of the deacon who received the brandied peach - I like the spirit in which it was sent. I can visualize your little family sitting about the festive board and it is gratifying to know that, even with all of the many and various activities of your daily life you were thoughtful enough to recall one who has enjoyed so many similar meals with you.
   
I often think of the good times I have had with the Potlatchers and, although for over seven months I have not been out of the house for an evening save the one event when I samply [[simply]] had to go to the semi-annual dinner at the Museum, yet in the words of the old song it is "Better to be a has been than a never was at all." No one and nothing, save the loss of memory, can deprive me of those satisfying retrospects and if doing all that the doctor orders and taking care of myself will do aught in the way of putting me on my feet again. I am for it every minute and hour of the day.

As I smoke your [[strikethrough]] present [[/strikethrough]] cigar it will be another link that binds the present with a most roseate past., and, as the smoke-rings float upwards, each will carry a heartfelt wish for continued health and happiness for the giver.

Cordially yours,