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Friday Aug. 27. 1880. Today has been like yesterday in temperature only cloudy and still, one of the brooding days" I went over to the cemetery this morning and from there to my studio where I have spent nearly the whole day. Have commenced another picture of Gertrude which I want to give to Alice for a Christmas present. I see by the Tribune that Wm. De Haas is dead. He had a studio in our building. He was an indifferent painter and I was never much attracted to him and so did not know him well. Received a very discouraging letter from Mary Gifford. Sanfords fever has returned and she thinks there are other complications and feels discouraged. 

[[newspaper clipping]]
William F. De Haas
William F. de Haas, brother of M. F. H. de Haas, N.A., is reported as having died at Fayal, one of the Azores Islands, July 16. Mr. De Haas was about fifty years of age. He came to this country about twenty-six years ago, from Rotterdam, where he had been an art student at the Academy in that city. William de Haas, like his brother Maurice, employed his talents in marine painting. Among his pictures are the “Sunrise at the Susquehanna,” 1867; “Fishing-Boats off Mount Desert,” 1874; “Evening at Halifax,” 1876; and “Naragansett Pier,” 1877. He had two paintings at the last exhibition at the National Academy – “Before the Squall,” and “Near St.Johns, Newfoundland.”
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Saturday 28. Irving and I went fishing out to the Flat-bush ice house this morning. Just as we were about to start a telegram came from Mary Gifford telling me Sanford was dying. Though I had been fearing this it came to me with remarkable sadness. I drove down to the Strand to see if there were any letters and I met the telegraph messenger with another dispatch from Giffords wife to the same effect. She evidently did not know Mary had telegraphed me. We drove out to the ice house. It was very hot with a strong wind from the South and I feel most sad and overwhelmed with sorrow. We took Park along but he lost us out there and when we came home we found him here. Laura came by the Powell this evening. Joe Tomkins telegraphed me this afternoon that he had seen Platt and he had told him Gifford was not expected to live from hour to hour. So one by one break the links that hold us to this changeful life. When I think of going to my studio in New York this winter and that I shall never find dear Gifford there again I can hardly bear the thought. Now while I write this evening that noble heart I fear is still in death. There was no letter from them by the evening mail. A letter from Sara with many recollections of darling Gertrude. Her last letter from there as she is to leave there tomorrow night.

Sunday 29." A telegram came just after breakfast this morning from Robt Wilkinson telling me Gifford died this morning. I had been expecting it. Have spent the day writing to his father and mother his wife and sister Mary and and to Mary Vaux and Lucy. It has rained nearly all afternoon. At tea time came a dispatch from Weir saying he was coming up on the 6 o'clock train to spend the night with me. I drove down to meet him. The ferry boat it seems