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Thursday Jan. 3. 1884, The weather is intensely cold, as one extreme follows another. Painted all day. Booths man came and removed the last of his things in my possession, except a picture by Taylor in Rondout to his store room in the Studio building. I went for Miss Nesmith according to agreement and we attended the play of Hamlet at the Star Theatre. I thought Booth remarkably fine in it. His rendering of the character seems to me to have become mellowed and refined by time and experience and I derived even more satisfaction from it than I expected to. The house was crowded and his support seemed to me well enough and by no means so poor as the comments in the papers led me to suppose.

Friday 4. Still very cold. I do not think it has thawed a particle today. Have painted all day. A young woman from the Graphic called and told me Will Low was painting "Telling the bees, but he had not as pretty a girl as mine and he had represented her just in the act of putting a shred of black on the hives. Ben Knower called and we discussed Thompson. He seems disinclined to go with me to talk to him and I shall go alone. Went around to the Club a little while and then came to my room and wrote to Mrs. Dr. Pelton. I overslept myself this morning and had my breakfast in my room.

Saturday 5. Painted all day. Gray and very cold. Went home by the N.S. 4.30 P.M train from 42nd St leaving from the new terminus at Weehawken. All is still unfinished but in a most liberal scale. The ferry boats and stations are elegant and tasteful. Tom met me and after supper we went down to John McEntee's to meet with our reading circle. Joe and Gertrude and Gussie having gone down before. Spent a very pleasant evening.

Sunday 6. The cold weather continues, but today is bright and charming. I remained at home and wrote to Alice. Sara had a letter from Lucy announcing the arrival of the pictures of our mother for which Lucy was most grateful. She had written me in N.Y. The ferry boat is running but the ice is strong. People skating on the river and ice cutting begun on the creek. The moonlight in the glazed snow is charming and I have made some notes of it with reference to a picture

Monday 7. A little milder but still near zero. Sara and I rode up to Kingston in our little new cutter, Maurices, painted and trimmed. It is very satisfactory. My father drove me up to the 5.55 train but I just missed it and had to walk back. It is a year ago tonight that our dear mother had her second severe attack. It all came back to me so vividly today and I thought of her and dear Gertrude and Maurice, all together I trust in peace where there are no trials. A tender sadness surrounds me here at home these winter days and I feel a spiritual refinement in this atmosphere which does not depress me but which awakens all that is tenderest and purest in my nature.

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