OK Saturday Monday, April 13 15 13, 1929 Saturday, April 13, 1929
Wrote most of the day. After dinner in town we saw the great “Punjab Mail,” a real thriller that makes Doug Fairbanks and Tom Mix take a back seat. The hero does some most amazing feats in climbing houses, forgetting to touch the wall sometimes in his hurried ascent—ride about 1,500 miles to Bombay on horse to save his royal jewels and then back again, all in about ten minutes. He appears everywhere at once, saving the heroine a dozen times, etc. The women also travel up buildings like squirrels. Plenty of characters bite the dust. It is exceedingly disconnected. One of the women was good looking and so was the hero.
Coming home, Mort, after much difficulty got all settled in bed with his mosquito netting just so. The rats were running riot between our wood ceiling and the third storey. Suddenly Mort hauled out of bed in a hurry. Reason? One rat did a dirty trick—and it leaked through on Mr. Morton Throckmorton Hartman.