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spent during at least a part of this year. 

I sent off [[strikethrough]] my [[/strikethrough]] the account of my catfish adventure in the Dublin News, yesterday. I wrote it up twice, my first effort was too long & I consequently wrote a shorter one & sent it. I hope the editor will approve of it & not merely print it out of consideration for me. 

I think Gerard is doing remarkably well & if he is receiving no help from his father, in writing the editorials, I think he has every reason to feel proud of himself. He is but a lad & yet his language is good and concise and almost invariably but for my disease, I should more nearly have done so. 

Time is such a queer thing. In some ways it seems to fly by like a flash of lightning, [[strikethrough]] at [[/strikethrough]] in others, it creeps, crawls, hesitates, takes the longest ways around and then when one looks back a number of years, those that passed most quickly, seem the farthest away. At present, I am thankful whenever bed-time comes-one day has gone-but later, if I succeed in being where I want to be, I shall regret the rapidity of each day's passage and without doubt, five years from now I shall be mourning because I misused the Time