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When coppers rot run over here and take a rest.  There's nothing better and every man under the sun is his own boss.  Coleman should buy that farm under the shadow of the Collosi of Thebes - seen from my window two miles away, and dig antiquities instead of potatoes.

The banks here long since joined hands and stock now sells at 34 which two years ago was placed at 5.

There's only one newspaper - and that's 

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right - Nobody cares what it says - not even the editor himself.  What's the use of all the noise and work and enmities of American business life --?  A little quiet reflection here puts away all jealousies and establishes friendship, affection and simplicity at their true worth -- the soul grows!  

Don't let yours rust old man.

Always affly,
Charles
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Our best to all the boys.
The telegram from the "[[Yon?]]" sent Tom reached us here on our return from the Soudan yesterday -- it's much appreciated.
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