and Haney, in the latter�s room. Gin & water and talk
till near 1 A. M. in honor of my birthday.
16. Tuesday. To Harpers. Got paid $ for drawings.
Ware up at night. I writing to Hannah.
17. Wednesday. Wrote to George Bolton. Out in the morning.
18. Thursday. To Mercantile Library, and to Bellew�s. A
Scotchman there in his employ, named Gunn. Went to Major Piercy�s
residence � second floor, over a candy-shop, in Broadway, t�other
side of Union Square. He�s doing nothing. The man ought to be
in India. Writing, the rest of the day. Young Gladdy, Mrs
Gouverneur�s boy came up in the evening, wanting to swindle me
into the belief that he�d written half a story, for the purpose of
selling it to Frank Leslie. He read it out. It was evidently copied,
the sentences being four or six lines in length and better English
� such as it was � than any boy could compose. Nevertheless he
stuck to his lie for the whole time of his stay. I sent him into
Cahill, whom he half humbugged into forth in him. A promi-
sing youth of 12! I never met such a horribly mendacious
family as his in my life. The mother herself is such an in-
fernal liar that she absolutely can not speak the truth, pure
and simple. Rawson, dogged and shiftless as he is, in worth
the rest of the family put together.
19. Friday. A real, steady snowstorm. Writing to my
mother. Called for Haney at 4 � P. M. and together to
Brooklyn, to Parton�s. Haney�s birth-day. A very jolly
time: music, singing, pickled oysters, beer and Ulric, the
music master of the girls. Kept it up to 12 or so, then to
bed, Haney & I tossing for choice of bed or sofa.
20. Saturday. Breakfasted and snowballing. Haney off by