Clear but cool morning. Rode to town. Occupied in my usual little round of trifling commissions, and in conversation with Ayer the Carpenter and others. My house plagues me exceedingly. I am not here enough to see the Applicants. And many come whom I do not want to see and do not know how to treat. I was detained in town until quite late, which was not material as my father and wife had an early dinner to attend the funeral in Weymouth of Cotton Tufts who is dead at last.1

Afternoon occupied in the garden pruning and training. The weather is extraordinarily dry. No rain has fallen to speak of for many weeks. I worked a little upon the Catalogue. Evening, Conversation about Francis the first. My father read the Prefatory Memoir to this piece of Miss Fanny Kemble’s—Extravagantly laudatory.

I remained out of town today to do business here. The weather was exceedingly warm and terminated in the evening with a slight shower. I walked to the Houses at the foot of Payne’s hill for the purpose of collecting the rents which have been due there for some time. Saw one of the Tenants and obtained a little, the others I did not see. From thence, I went to the Canal stopping on my way at Mrs. Adams’ to pay a short visit there. Mrs. Greenough a sister of her’s is with her.1 My business at the Canal was to inquire what would be the cost of Stone steps for the house in Court Street,2 which having ascertained I went on to Mount Wollaston. The Orchard looks barely alive, and the Tenants seem to do every thing they can to destroy it. I am still hoping however that in this case some good may yet come from my suggestions. The view from the hill as lovely as ever. I should delight in a house on this spot, but my means and my disposition are unequal to the thing.3 Returned home pretty well fatigued. Afternoon, Catalogue and a little of Horace. The time passes here very rapidly and yet very quietly. Conversation in the evening.