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of vegetables. Japanese persimmons were weighing down the branches of several big trees near the gate, and Dorothy and I each ate some.  Cows, horses, chickens, pigs and ducks and geese added to the farmyard scene.  The Duffys are middle-aged, dark, vigorous, Irish (of course), and delightful pioneers.

     Returning to B.A. and the City Hotel, we found Mr. Copley waiting to take Frances and me out to tea.  We went to the home of Mrs. Siecherich, a wealthy old lady who has a sort of Monday salon.  Because of its being Labor Day, and all chaufeurs on holiday, we were the only callers.  She is a widow, lame, full of gossip, with a beautiful big old-fashioned house full of handsome things.  Strangely enough, Frances [[strikethrough]] and [[/strikethrough]] found that she knows her sister in Norfolk, and she and Mrs. S. had a grand talk about the South.

     Copley took us all to Nuevo Americano for dinner (560 Suipacha) where we gorged on roast lamb and sausages.

[[underline]] May 2 - B. A. [[/underline]]

     Bill and I called at the Embassy in the morning, meeting Mr. Tuck, who was very friendly.  At noon we went to the Consulate and picked up Mr. Davis, and we all took the subway out to the Zoo.

     We had understood that Dr. Holmburg had invited us to lunch at the Zoo, but apparently there was some misunderstanding, for the Director was not to be found.  However, we had an excellent lunch in the Zoo restaurant, and eventually Holmburg turned up, and had a brief visit with us.

     In the late afternoon Mr. Casares, president of the Ornithological Society, and Mr. Picardo, of the nutria farm, came to tea.  Casares talks very good English, and is a charming person; his hobby, besides birds, is collecting first editions of W.H. Hudson!

     The Brownes had invited all five of us to dinner, and we went out to their apartment at 8.30, and ate chicken Maryland and chocolate ice cream.  Dorothy got out her pictures of Sumatra after dinner, and we had a grand evening.

May 3 - B.A.

     We had been warned that any excursion into the country here began at an early hour, and sure enough, when we were invited out for the day, we had to be ready to leave the hotel at 6.30.  It was just beginning to be light, and, as we had anticipated, our friends were a quarter of an hour late, and they had not had breakfast, so we had to stop in the Portales and get coffee.  Bill and Frances rode with Mr. Antelo, Bill, Mr. Copley and I with Mr. Picardo.  For an hour we jiggled over cobblestones getting out of the city; then we had about an hour on fairly good road, then an hour on dust - literally, the road was simply a bank of dust two or three feet deep.  We skidded badly once turning a corner.  And the clouds that were plowed up by the wheels of the car were blinding and suffocating.  When we passed anyone on the road, the dust would be

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