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Alice! But I remember (?) Grandpa. But I also remember a comic of a short and tall and I've forgotten their names. But you see we'd all put it down on the floor and everybody kneeled down with their rears in the air and looked at these comics. And then all of a ouddon it woo t.im* to loovif and to go.
Tel1 me about his horseback rides in the morning, before breakfast.
Alice: That's a wonderful story.
Mamoo:	You know that house was on Esplanade but it took up almost
a block of grounds and the grounds were beautifully kept by Joe, the gardener, the old gardener. He would plant violets all around the edges of everything. All the gardens were beautifully done up all the time. And they were set up in round circles. And that's where the Pomegranete trees were. Anyway, at the very back of the lot on Kellerac Street was what's called a little sunhouse. There were some benches in it and vines that grew over it and that's where Mama and Papa, before they were married, used to meet. Did you know that?
Mamoo:	In fact. . .
Alice: That's where they conoodled?
Mamoo:	I don't know. Alright, the point is that Papa, who worked
at the bank, would have to ask Bonnemaman, my mother's mother, for permission to come and wnlk in the qarden with his fiance, my mother. And it beautifully, do you remember those letters? You don't remember them?
Alice:	Which	letter darling?
Mamoo:	Letters	from Papa to Bonnemama asking permission to walk
with Mama in the garden...
Continue about his horseback rides.
Mamoo:	So anyway, Joe, the gardener, and he was a little colored
man, who did a beautiful job of taking care of the garden, but Martin was Grandpapa's valet and he'd help him to the bathroom and helped him get dressed and get, put on his shirt and his clothes and all that sort of thing. But, the stable, I think it was Joe probably would get, take the horse out and would bring the horse around to the front of the house and Grandpapa would put on his own jacket and fill his pockets with rosebuds and flowers which Joe would have picked you see and. . .
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