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200 chewed-up-hat, begrinned face, corroded hands and a cheerful smile. I wish my boy George would pan out that way. What a difference with some of the young conceited idiots I knew when I graduated! Everybody here connected with any works seems strenuous. Good school for young fickle men. but I suppose the latter run away to some easier place. Tonight went to hear a violinist at the Theater. [[/end page]]
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