scape visible through the driving, splashing rain, as I with Irish
American gazed out at the rear door of the Cars.    Verily civilized
Anglo Saxon with all his mammon worship is a million times a nobler
creature than the howling, dogged red Indian, and has justly ousted
him. 	    More rain, some stoppages, more water below, and we
cross a swampy pod-besprinkled flat, and have done our 250
miles and are in Boston.    Shake hands with Americo-Irelander,
and in ten wet minutes arrive at Morton Place Milk Street.   About 
7 in the morning.    A dry before kitchen fire, then breakfast, then
ascent into bar-sitting room, where I sit down and score up this relen-
tical day and a halfs-cronichle.	Cigar, newspapers and at 1/2 past 1
dinner, and a capital one too.	       Then a stroll, up Washington Street, and
environs, the Common, the State-house, the notable tea-wharf.
Return, and at about 7, to bed.
  24. Monday.  Amends for last nights wakefulness by sleeping till
past eight.  Breakfast.  Wrote to Wing at Fall River, and to Brid-
gens, at Philadelphia.  Then, with drawings under arm to Post Office, 
and subsequently to Washington Street Publishers.    Phillips and Sampson
&c. Newspaper Editors Offices.  Wood Engraver.  Thus, busily en-
gaged all the morning.  Back to dinner, then out again, (only with-
out drawings), as a�looker on in Vienna �.  To the Common � fine
well-treed enclosure.  Entred the State House and ascended to the top
from which is obtainable a noble view.    Charlestown with its Bunker
Hill monument, the Cochituate-water Reservoir, Medical Colledge