The morning opened dark and cloudy. So much so that I felt myself obliged to advise Abby to remain here a little while longer. Feeling as if I was bound to keep an Appointment which I had made with Daniel Adams the Pumpmaker1 I went in but he disappointed me and did not come. It poured with prodigious violence during the last part of the time. I in fact accomplished very little during my stay. Some few small Commissions for Abby and my Mother, were finished, and I hastened after giving directions for transferring some things to Quincy by the baggage Waggon to make my way back as well as I could. Luckily for me the rain held up while I was going.

My father attended the Meeting of the Proprietors of Neponset Bridge and dined with them at Squantum. I was glad to be at home. My afternoon was passed without occupation, as I carried my Catalogue to town. I read for my amusement a part of Sevigniana or a collection of beauties from the Letters of Madame de Sévigné.2 They are amusing and perhaps make the pleasantest way of reading that lady’s voluminous Correspondence. But this occupation does not quite satisfy me. Something more serious ought to be my study.

Evening a conversation with my Mother in which I explained to her my views in the course which I had thought proper to adopt and gave my opinion of the disadvantages attending John’s proposed course, perhaps more freely than was necessary.