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Sausalito, Calif.,
November 12, 1914.

Dear Mr. Cobb:

As my old Mammy used to say, "if the Lord's willing, and nothing happens," I'll be married Thursday, the nineteenth of November!  I'm just about the happiest man alive!

I want to [[Strikeout]] /v/t [[/Strikeout]] to thank you for that list of "trips" you sent me.  I know it was a [[spaces left, probably for "hell"]] of a job, and there is but one [[strikeout]] mmmmmmmmmmm [[/Strikeout]] question more I'd like to ask: Can you find out from the skipper of the "San Juan" (or any one else), how many fish were dumped from their 110,000.  I am considering the fish dumped as mushy; am I correct in this assumption?

Can you tell me where I can reach Chamberlain?  Is he still at Tucson?

Give my best to the home folks, and remember me to the "girls" and Ward.  I saw O'Malley while he was down here.  Will you be so kind as to ask Miss Wright to give me a picture of my namesake, the "pig."


  [[From the marks on the paper, this appears to be a carbon copy, there is no signature]]