Morning fine. I read a large part of the second Olynthiac which I find was more thoroughly read at first, than the other was. Then to the Office where I was occupied in writing in continuation of my political squibs. This took all my time so that I did little of a more useful kind.

My father came in at about one o’clock and according to agreement we proceeded to Medford. My mother with Miss Roberdeau, Abby and the child had already gone. We arrived there rather late, but in time for dinner. Had a pleasant time enough. My father seemed to be in pretty good spirits and Mr. Brooks quite comfortable. It is a long time since I have been out there. And the autumn with its falling leaves and chilly wind reads a moral to the mind that remembers last the richness of Summer vegetation and the extreme of heat. I have no fancy for the Country after the sharp frosts, at least in this climate.

We returned home shortly after dinner calling on the way at Mr. Angier’s where Miss Roberdeau was left to stay for a day or two. I felt upon going home almost as unsettled as at first. This is not pleasant. I wasted the Evening, reading only Bacon and the Spectator.