Jan. 3
Here I'd thought that the dancing girls were bad enough. As I write this letter, ten disgusting old men are prancing up and down all over what used to be the garden, before the geese and the swans and the cows got at it. And several of them have been found up in the hayloft with the milkmaids. Meanwhile Boss Hogg is trying to have us evicted for running an illegal house of debauchery. If he succeeds, I'll never speak to you again.