The day was exceedingly unpleasant although considerably warmer 286than it has been. I read a little of the Letters of Ortiz, an Italian book that I purchased at Mr. Eliot’s sale.1 Went to the Office. Passed an hour in writing and Accounts after which I was obliged to go out in quest of Fuel for my House. This involved a walk to the Southern extreme of the town. And I consumed the whole of my time in it before dinner.

The afternoon was all taken up at the Boylston Market there being a Meeting of the Directors to consider the expediency of making certain repairs &ca. There was a vast deal of discussion but no great conclusion. And I had little or nothing to do but to keep myself warm which was not perfectly easy. Got away quite tired at six o’clock. I have no great fancy for this situation. It is one of some labour and no great ease. I mean by this that the manual labour is all required.

Evening, went to a small party at Mrs. P. C. Brooks’ given to Miss Fowle. It was not very agreeable yet not absolutely stupid. Returned home but read only the Rambler.