_Thursday, 14th._—Mr. Parker Pillsbury came, and we talked about the poor slaves. I had a music lesson with Miss P. I hate her, she is so fussy. I ran in the wind and played be a horse, and had a lovely time in the woods with Anna and Lizzie. We were fairies, and made gowns and paper wings. I “flied” the highest of all. In the evening they talked about travelling. I thought about Father going to England, and said this piece of poetry I found in Byron’s poems:— “When I left thy shores, O Naxos, Not a tear in sorrow fell; Not a sigh or faltered accent Told my bosom’s struggling swell.” It rained when I went to bed and made a pretty noise on the roof. * * * * * _Sunday, 24th._—Father and Mr. Lane have gone to N. H. to preach. It was very lovely.... Anna and I got supper. In the eve I read “Vicar of Wakefield.” I was cross to-day, and I cried when I went to bed. I made good resolutions, and felt better in my heart. If I only _kept_ all I make, I should be the best girl in the world. But I don’t, and so am very bad. (Poor little sinner! She says the same at fifty.—L. M. A.) * * * * * _October 8th._—When I woke up, the first thought I got was, “It’s Mother’s birthday: I must be very good.” I ran and wished her a happy birthday, and gave her my kiss. After breakfast we gave her our presents. I had a moss cross and a piece of poetry for her. We did not have any school, and played in the woods and got red leaves. In the evening we danced and sung, and I read a story about “Contentment.” I wish I was rich, I was good, and we were all a happy family this day. We sang the following song: SONG OF MAY Hail, all hail, thou merry month of May, We will hasten to the woods away Among the flowers so sweet and gay, Then away to hail the merry merry May— The merry merry May— Then away to hail the merry merry month of May. Hark, hark, hark, to hail the month of May, How the songsters warble on the spray, And we will be as blith as they, Then away to hail the merry merry May— Then away to hail the merry merry month of May. I think this is a very pretty song and we sing it a good deal. * * * * * _Thursday, 12th._—After lessons I ironed. We all went to the barn and husked corn. It was good fun. We worked till eight o’clock and had lamps. Mr. Russell came. Mother and Lizzie are going to Boston. I shall be very lonely without dear little Betty, and no one will be as good to me as Mother. I read in Plutarch. I made a verse about sunset:—