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How much uncleanliness this simple little 30-cent net had kept me up out of since the day I bought it in Guatemala City! Like many of the tasks of life, this one grew easier toward its termination. A moderate day's walk, not without rocky climbs and bajadas, but with considerable stretches of almost level going across solitary wind-cooled plains, brought me to Tamara.
The little gavotte is an old dance in the second-hand book store. The $2-shelf. The $1-rack. The 75-cent table. The 30-cent grab counter. And finis. New scribblings crowd for place, old scribblings exeunt. The girl without an umbrella studies titles. A love story, of course, and only thirty cents. An opened page reads, "he took her in his arms...." Who would not buy such a book on a rainy day?
We rubber plants form the connecting link between the vegetable kingdom and the decorations of a Waldorf-Astoria scene in a Third Avenue theatre. I haven't looked up our family tree, but I believe we were raised by grafting a gum overshoe on to a 30-cent table d'hote stalk of asparagus.
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