Pleasant winter weather. The children appear now to be pretty well and my heart is easy. I went to the Office and occupied myself in arrears. Mr. Conant, the Farmer from Weston came in, and he talks more than enough. His present subject, the Lease and some requests. Mr. Kauffer, a Tenant applied for delay. The pressure pervades all classes.

I dined by invitation with W. E. Payne—The same club, H. G. Chapman, J. Chapman, E. and S. P. Blake, H. B. Rogers and myself, C. C. Tucker. I talked more than I ought and not so prudently as I ought. I am sensible that in this circle, I am liable to be misunderstood and yet know not how to avoid it. We left at seven, and I returned home to pass the evening. But did nothing. Must I return these civilities.