Morning cloudy. Returned to town rather late in order to give time for my Gig to be repaired. I found it ready at Charlestown. Misfortunes however never come single. As I was passing a truck my wheel came too near and turned me over on the pavement without any ceremony. I was not hurt and went on. But I have cause to thank heaven again that I was quit with the fright. My life might have paid the forfeit of my imprudence, though I really did not see what occasioned the shock. But the roads are very dangerous and I feel little or no desire to see more of them than I can help. I felt my bruises all day however and the thing affected me with low spirits. I did little or nothing in the 357morning and in the afternoon, wrote a letter to my father. Evening at home reading the Disowned.1