Morning warm. I went to the Office after giving my boy John a half hour’s walk on the common. He does not appear to me perfectly well over the Measles, and Louisa still suffers much from her cough. My time was taken up in Diary, accounts and copying part of a Conveyance into the records of the Quincy Temple Fund. Thus passed most of my time.

The Accounts from the South are fearful. They mention a rising of the Creek Indians which may possibly bring on a general war.1 I feel very anxious for Thomas in his exposed place.

The weather was exhausting and I suffered all day from a dull headach. Home to read, Livy. Afternoon passed rather languidly as generally happens when I do not feel quite well. Read Sismondi’s account of Calderon which makes me a little curious to read some of his works. Ariosto too. Evening very sultry. I dawdled with the ladies. Miss Louisa Dewint insists upon remaining with us. Walk round the Common and afterwards I finished a piece of Swift’s writing or ascribed to him which I did not admire.