The morning was tolerably fair but cloudy, and it rained shortly afterwards. I received, upon arriving in town, a letter from my Mother 304at New York stating the reasons why the journey was delayed and mentioning the probable time of their arrival.1 But judging from the weather I did not expect her so concluded to return to Medford. My time was somewhat cut up in fritters by Commissions of several kinds and Accounts.

Returned to Medford to dine and passed a very quiet peaceable time in the afternoon. Our stay here has been a singular one. For we have had scarcely any thing but rain since we came. I walked about the Garden and made some inquiries about the box, a poor attempt at resetting which I have made at Quincy. Read the discussion of the affairs of England for 1830 in the American Register, written by my Father.2 It bears his mark. The more I think of it, the more I am astonished at the power of his mind. And its extent which has no equal in this or perhaps any Country.

Evening, we went by invitation to take Tea with Mr. and Mrs. Angier, and passed the time until nine o’clock. Mr. Stetson, and Mr. L. Angier were there. Returned in a heavy rain.