After which I led Brother Norton back to the flivver and we sojourned to Dutch’s stag cafe for the remainder of the evening.
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I’ve found another use for my flivver: Deacon Miller’s suckling colt followed old Lizzie for half a mile the other day.
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While at my Breezy Point cabin resort at Pequot I heard an interesting story regarding the manner in which young Indian men woo their sweethearts.
When the Indian feels a tug at his heart he will station himself with a tom-tom in front of the tepee of his beloved and beat frantically on the drum affair. If the girl loves him she comes out and the medicine man does the rest. If she scorns his love she places a snow-shoe at the wigwam entrance and the young chief goes back to his own tepee and keeps on beating his tom-tom until some squaw girl takes pity and marries him.
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Maggie, our new harvest cookhouse chef, lost her brooch the other night, so she has prepared the following advertisement for the Whiz Bang: “LOST—A cameo brooch representing Venus and Adonis on the Robbinsdale road about ten o’clock on Wednesday evening.”
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