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Mrs. Davis filing and Gertrude sitting on her camp chair sewing. Darling Gertrude. How sad were all the memories of this spot for I miss thinking of her all the time and could not enter into the innocent joy of the children. I have labored under a most helpless and despairing feeling all day. If I could only once more feel hopeful and escape from my sad thoughts.

Monday July 14" 1880. My fifty second birthday. Each one comes now with a renewed sense of the shortness of the flying years, as well as the unsatisfying results in happiness or achievement of the purposes that once automated me. It seems to me that I am poorer in every way except in sorrow and discontent than I was a year ago. My mother had a letter from Sara, happy and enjoying herself very much. I have written a part of the day and a part was devoted to the setting up the new range in the kitchen. Wrote to Alice and to Fred Sawyer.

Thursday 15. Worked a little while in the shop making a yard stick for my mother to take the place of an old one which has disappeared and which has been in the family as long as I can remember. I also made a box in which I packed one of dear Gertrudes black silk skirts, the silver pitcher with Mr. Sawyers name on it, some lace for Alice and sent it to Mrs. Sawyer by Express. Have written all afternoon and finally finished my article, and wrote a note to Dr. Holland asking him if he cares to look at it for "Scribner" I read the other day Lowells [[?]] Journal in Putnams Magazine of 1853. It is the work of genius and makes mine seem very tame. I wrote to Gifford yesterday asking him if he would not like to go somewhere for sketching, quite sure he will not. It is so dull here and I feel so sensibly that I ought to be at work. I wish I had the energy to go off somewhere alone.

Friday 16. A letter from Gifford, Does not want to go sketching. Is not at all well and is going to Lake Superior and from there to the region of big trout. A letter from Bower. Have worked on the illustrations for my woods article.

Saturday 17. Worked on my drawings a little in the forenoon. In the afternoon, it being a lovely, cool day with fine skies, Mrs. Davis my mother and I took a ride through Rondout, along the river road, out by Chas Livingstons and home by the Adams house. I had letters from Downing, Mr. Chickering, pleased that I will visit him,