Everybody ashore, al the doughboys out of their camps, al the frog soldiers out of their barracks, every-bod Everyone in the TR who matters--the old-timers--will be there. It was the last third of September, and stillhot--the hottest late summer I can remember. There's no town drunk here, you meddling son of a bitch, he said,never looking at me and never missing a beat as he clapped.
and make up a smal typewritten list of engagements, inter-views, copy to be got out, statements to the press. Below Kia my pencil was making a series of fat loopsthat might have been cursive letter l's or hair ribbons. He waved a pudgy hand and said, Glad to be of service to a fel ow citizen, and walked on. I'm not a bad swimmer when people aren't pelting me with rocks, but myfirst shore-to-float-to-shore lap wa
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