oxen at a distance. Sometimes tall rocks on each side the road,
with a clear cold brooklet by the side. Now tall trees, now great
pools of water, with huge shapeless tree roots rotting in them, or even
treetrunks. Now a long bridge, water below, and only the beams
to walk upon, and not too much space in case of a train of cars arriving.
Now and then a crashing locomotive snorted by, all writhing brass and
steel, vapour and smoke. Pass through Williams bridge, and on.
One lesser Morrisiana, then another, the greater, a pretty place,
thriving houses, tall trees around it, and workmen sitting dining on
logs by the road side. Melrose, and a different one from Scott�s.
So on till I neared Harlem at about half past 12, when mounting into
the cars was rattled through deep rock cuttings and across open country
to New York. Back to Canal Street and dinner, and Alf Waud,
whom I found gilding frames for Mrs Dob. In doors the rest of the
day, writing in the evening.
Alf having called on Butler hath found how that Charley spake in paltry
manner of me to him, [words crossed out]. Bah,
there�s enow of him. Thou hast not a friend in the world Charley Brown,
and deservest to have none. Thou hast a small head, the which I should have
borne in mind more constantly.
15. Tuesday. Raining with scarcely intermission all day. Writing to my
Mother and to Boutcher.
16. Wednesday. Mr Hart came, the weather preventing the continuance
of surveying at Pelhamville, and he having business in town. Leaving him,
went down town, through the rain to the Post Office with letters, then to Wells
and Webb for mahogany block, then calls at Andrews and the Era Office,
then returned to Canal and Mr Hart. After a glass, he left, intending
to return to Pelham that day. Drawing the rest of it myself. Homer