Fine day. Office. Conant to settle. Evening at home.

At the Office. Call at Mr. Foster’s Store to settle the charges of freight for poor T. B. Adams and to bring his affairs more gradually to a close. Accounts, home, the Trachinians. Miss L. C. Smith at our house to dine.

Silas Conant kept me all the afternoon discussing the question of his damage to the Weston farm. The attachment has brought him up as I expected it would. He was accompanied by his under tenant Fuller. After a full discussion of the merits of the case, he paid me my demand being two hundred dollars besides the year’s rent, and I gave him a receipt in full. Thus is that matter off my mind. But I fear I shall yet have some trouble with it and seriously meditate recommending to my father a surrender to the reversionary heirs.1

Mr. Brooks spent the evening with us. On with Burr.