It had rained a little in the night and was cloudy at sunrise but cleared with a violent northwest wind which brought with it sharp frost before sunset. A pretty May day. I went to the Office, but not very profitably occupied. Performed various commissions and then 235home to read Homer, reviewing the second Book with the exception of the catalogue of Ships.

Afternoon to Quincy to see about some trees but it was blowing so hard as to make it impossible to do much with them. The cold was quite considerable and altogether the country looked cheerless enough. I found as usual enough to vex me and very little to be pleased with and returned at sunset half frozen and provoked with my carpenter for not being on the spot. A good many errors have thus crept into the account which it is too late now to remedy. How we shall get through I do not know and hardly dare conjecture.

Found T. K. Davis at my house who spent an hour or two in pleasant talk. Afterwards, continued Hugo’s Notre Dame.