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[[preprinted]] April SATURDAY, 12 1902. [[/preprinted]] Louvre A M. The party that went to St Cloud all went to Mrs. Millers 32 Ave. Henri Martin tonight to a blow out We played lovely games, fruit basket, charades, etc. and finally the kids were put to bed and we had had the floor cleared to dance but nobody could play & it "wa'n't" much of a game The ice cream and cake touched little Willie's soft spot and was somewhat American in flavor which seemed good after the Harvard man I met who just loved Paris and lived here nine years. America was disgusting "don che know". New England climate vile. Its so funny when a man has softening of the brain that he must brag about it and still I suppose it a natural sequence. Nine years of Paris. Give me Hell, please youd find stuffing there at least. [[end page]] [[start page]] [[preprinted]] April SUNDAY, 13 1902. 2nd after Easter [[/preprinted]] Started a head of Twachtman this morning and had a lot of fun with it. Lunch. Garden and gallery but nothing [[strikethrough]] not [[/strikethrough]] but Whistlers Mother and the Winslow Homer and perhaps the Sargent had anything in them for me. Guess its because Im so nearly going. Never did like to say good bye any way. Went home and looked at a crack in the floor a while but it wasn't there. so I took some books and plaster around to Miss Sargents and she & her sister Elsie 'n me went for a walk. It was a beautiful afternoon and we found a new park, a small one, where we paid two cents for our seats and sat and watched the people and chucked pebbles at the sparrows-----------Monday----- Miss Sargent stopped at the studio to tell me her mother was very ill, so the Concert Rouge was called off----Didn't see her to say good bye