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I am very superstitious. As a small boy I was notoriously lucky. It
was usual for one or two of our lads (per annum) to get drowned in the
Mississippi or in Bear Creek, but I was pulled out in a 2/3 drowned
condition 9 times before I learned to swim, and was considered to be
a cat in disguise. When the "Pennsylvania" blew up and the telegraph
reported my brother as fatally injured (with 60 others) but made
no mention of me, my uncle said to my mother "It means that Sam was
somewhere else, after being on that boat a year and a half--he was born
lucky." Yes, I was somewhere else. I am so superstitious that I have
always been afraid to have business dealings with certain relatives and
friends of mine because they were unlucky people. All my life I have
stumbled upon lucky chances of large size, and whenever they were wasted
it was because of my own stupidity and carelessness. And so I have felt
entirely certain that that machine would turn up trumps eventually. It
disappointed me lots of times, but I couldn't shake off the confidence
of a life-time in my luck.
Well, whatever I get out of the wreckage will be due to good luck--the
good luck of getting you into the scheme--for, but for that, there
wouldn't be any wreckage; it would be total loss.
I wish you had been in at the beginning. Then we should have had the
good luck to step promptly ashore.
Miss Harrison has had a dream which promises me a large bank account,
and I want her to go ahead and dream it twice more, so as to make the
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