Lehigh University
The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 023 [12-14-1850]

              The boys Brooklyn entertainment off to night, so Master Fred calleth
on Charley, and I write to Barth.  In no case successful.   Alf
Waud and I start off, (Mr Hart and Mapother having called walked
part with us,)  and on reaching Park Place find the Office closed.
Wait a while, and Fred cometh; all together to Brooklyn.  Tall
first floor back room, Mac and his boy, and Pelham fumigating.
Brandy punch, cigars, intermittent singing. Fred going through a song
book  psalter fashion, and getting decidedly ill towards midnight. Cross
the ferry with Alf, a brisk trapip up Broadway through the clear frosty
night to Canal Street and bed.
  15. Sunday.  Brisk healthy walk along the North River bank for
an hour �fore dinner.   Afternoon dozing, and talking.  Evening went to Cha-
pin�s chapel, willing to hear him.  A good Sermon, though by another preacher;
its gist being that Religion was not a separate and isolated thing from daily life;
trite truism perchance but well worked out.      Returning along, pondering on the
intellect enervating curse of company.     Calling in, and finding Alf drawing, went
on to Clarkson Street, and visited Mr Greatbatch.  There an hour then returned.
  16 Monday. At the Office. Alf at gilding again.   Barth called in the
afternoon, and my task ending at 4 o� the clock we returned to Canal to-
gether through the wet streets. Waud with us all the evening, I after
an essay at writing joining them round the stove.
 For the first time, this night, Barth spoke of her I love. �Did I remember
her?� And anon, and Oh how coarsely.   And I lay in bed and listened,
feigning a drowsy no thought of what he was saying, curious to scan his foul mind, 
and glad to think  I had judged him so well, and kept as I ever have, mine
own secret.    As to venting anger. � What should he know of Love and of
Her?.                 The time has passed for friendship with him. Old boy likings,
and pleasant recollections render me not indifferent to him � even I warm to cor-
                      Yet do I feel them now marvellously reviving. Though friend I have none
Waud would have been one had he known me earlier.                May 1851.               
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