her being a widow and having designs on Mr.
Conworth, but now could she leave them? John,
she knew, never would get married.
23. Friday. Newspapers. Fishing in the after-
noon with William Tew. He bathed and, of course,
swam well. Reading to folks in the evening.
There was talk about another excursion to Pine Pond
on the morrow, and one Solomon Martin, an in-
dividual resembling in some respects the Dirk
Schniler of Irving�s Knickerbocker, come to arrange
about it. He fished with us. Returning to the house
at nightfall, while we sat in the kitchen, he was
summoned away by the news that his father had just
died. The son had told us that the old man had
spat blood during the previous night, and that his
further illness might prevent his (Solomon�s) join-
ing the proposed fishing excursion. The father was
threescore and ten, a good tub-maker, and had
some land. The son has Indian blood in him on
the mother�s side.
24. Saturday. Visitors; a brother of Mrs.
Tew�s and an old countryman, who was much
interested in the discovery that I was born at �Ban-
bury� and talked about it as if it were London.
The old boy was a trifle tipsy, which William Tew
observed after the production of the hospitable
whiskey bottle. It generally �stands convenient� on