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Monday Dec 18th I mounted Tom, after breakfast, and went
to my new P. O. Olive Grove, crossed the ferry river much
swollen put in a cord of letters Lets see to Home Father
Betty Miss Mary Miss Page Bob Smith Toby Richardson
& one for Rusk, got one out for him & several papers
Dissected at my hawks in afternoon am much
pleased & thankful to hear that Megen is doing well
Wrote from my old notes on Dr Drakes lectures Helped Mr &
Mrs R to put up the clock after dinner, lent her Moore's works &xc
Pretty day no rain
Tuesday Dec 19th
A beautiful day warm & bright it must
rain more ere the weather is settled Mr Fry of the mail boat
Quincy breakfasted here I copied from my notes on Dr Gross
cliniques, during the morning Went to the river after dinner, a
while, to fish & stretch my legs by the walk, whilst looking
over a paper & not noticing my hook, some "monster of the
deep made a tremendouse pull at it, startling me from my
reading, & convincing me I ought to do but one thing at a time,
The "Albany" came by, making such a sommotion of the water,
that I rolled up my line & returned, dissected some more
Read some medicine & little Vicar of Wakefield Saw Mr
& Mrs Rusk go off "riding twice", as Thaddy wd say, on horseback,
to the big ball at Lot Owens I'm heartily glad I was
not well enough known to be asked I eat supper soli
taire & had a fine time of it, writing poetry after tea
(for we have tea now) my eye in "fine frenzy rolling" I already
made 40 lines counted them afterwards did so subject,
a little party at Mrs McGuffey',s which i attended last May
where I saw a Miss Matthews of Oxford a fine young lady
I am just admiring the looks of my table It really
looks professional the calico cover, daily, grows more lovely
in my eyes the profusion of volumes lay about it with
an air truly neglige my ink stand (once a morphine
bottle) is "just the thing" my writin' fixin's look quite lit
erary my little tin, battered cockle shell of a candlestick,
is "nothing shorter", than just about the thing I want I got it yes
terday, for having knocked off the upper half of my former one (a black pint bottle), to
make a vessel for the maceration of my hawk's heads