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        I tried to get back home for lunch and a brief consultation with Donna about urgent messages and tasks.   Then out again for an afternoon's doorknocking, often helped by Willie, Rod, Gladdy, or one of my kids.

        We usually returned about six p.m., leaving the voters to eat their dinner in peace, and hungry for our own.   Every second night there was some kind of function to attend:   campaign dinners, public meetings, municipal ceremonies--all sorts of gatherings.

        This could involve a shower, a change into the Suit, and a search for the invitation or scrap of paper which gave the address of the function.   There was little time to reflect on what I might do or say on arrival there.

         On nights when I had no function to attend, Rod Power would arrive after dinner to work on our advertisements and pamphlets.   We were running perilously close to the deadlines.   Words and pictures had to be put together in a form that could influence the voters.   We had little experience and no reliable feedback on the effect of our propaganda.   Nevertheless, we pressed on late into the night, tossing words and slogans at each other and scetching layouts.   As my concentration flagged, Willie would take over the dialogue with Rod.   By midnight some progress had been made, some material ready for delivery the next day.   And I would stumble off to bed.

        On Monday, September 18, nominations closed at  

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