I arose, having passed a very restless night, and not free from headach this morning. So much so that I thought my only relief was to be found in air and exercise. Accordingly I passed most of my morning upon the hill engaged in various little occupations which tended somewhat to remove the oppression I was suffering. Called at Mr. Brigham’s with whom I finished the business respecting the Canal and discussed the question of the glass, about which as yet he has received no answer. This is vexatious.

Home. Read Homer. Afternoon, went out and took a ride with my Wife round by the upper end of Milton, a delightful ride. On our arrival at home however we found Mr. and Mrs. Frothingham who had been waiting for us. This was not fortunate. Nobody was at home and my mother was yesterday taken ill and confined to her bed. They spent a little while at my House and were just going away when we got home. They staid to tea and were very pleasant. My father had gone to an Ordination and did not return until late. E. C. Adams spent the evening. It set in for a heavy rain through the night.

It continued to rain heavily until nearly noon today, and I think the quantity of water which fell was as great as at any time this season. I remained quietly at home writing and reading. Homer, and Humboldt, until it became sufficiently dry to enable me to walk up to Mr. Brigham’s and inquire about the glass, but he had received no answer. At this rate I am not likely to get my House glazed soon.

Afternoon it cleared away but the whole of the ground at my House appeared perfectly saturated with water. This is I believe, somewhat unusual to go so far into the season. At any rate, it is rather an inconvenience to me. I was engaged nevertheless in superintending the labour of Kirk who goes on slow and steady in accomplishing all that I wish. He has behaved himself thus far with remarkable character and sobriety, and if he could continue so, would earn a handsome living at all times. But alcohol is his bane. Evening at home. Conversation in my Mother’s room upon things in general.

Morning pleasant and warm with a hazy atmosphere more common in hot climates than here. I went to town and was occupied pretty 266constantly. Went to my House where I copied a letter I had written to T. B. Adams.1 Received a letter from T. B. Johnson, dated at Paris May 14.2 He seems in better spirits than he has been but does not think of moving. Got a note from Mr. C. P. Curtis requesting more copies of my Pamphlet.3 He seems the only person who keeps it in mind. I sent him a dozen, having some time since, ceased to circulate any myself. Some time passed in accounts and commissions and then home.

Afternoon upon the hill. The work goes on rather slowly. I wasted my time somewhat in superintendence. Evening at home quietly. Conversation with my father. Public affairs, which seem to his mind to be of engrossing interest.