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Monday Oct. 13" 1884.  Sara, Janette and Emily went to High Falls, Tom driving as I concluded I ought to stay with my father. The wind has blown a gale all day first from the South and very warm but in the middle of the afternoon it got around in the N.W. I worked at the apples and a thousand other miserable things which sink my art and put it afar from me. I dont even look at the landscape and am not even open to the impressions which always heretofore visit me at this time of year. I am nervous and tired and unhappy. My father has seemed stronger today. Has been about most of the day and walked over to Girards and back. Is more interested than yesterday and seems really better. I saw Mr. Wood about the interminable Turck matter but did not get much encouragement. Thought Griffiths would pay if we would guarantee him against loss which I said I would. I am so sick of this dragging thing that I am losing all patience. Our school tax is due and I am depending on this to pay it. How these things worry me and I am always being tormented with them. I wonder if there will ever be an end to them. I had a letter from Church. He is going to Mexico again this winter on account of his rheumatism. Have been reading of Taylor again this evening and thinking of him and dear Gertrude all day. Tomorrow will be the sixth anniversary of her death, to find me no nearer happiness or even content and repose than I ever was
 
Tuesday 14"  My father seems decidedly stronger today. I had a letter from Mary this morning very anxious about him. I wrote her that he seemed much improved. Have been busy with the apples and my mind distracted with small worries, doing the work of a hired man when I ought to be full of my art work. It has been a cool day with North wind. To crown my troubles Girard is in trouble again. He does not live within his means and now he tells me  he is obliged to raise five hundred dollars. I am dumb and helpless. When we are in the greatest trouble we can surely rely on him to come in with a fresh batch. Dear Gertrude, in my mind all day. She died six years ago tonight, and fled beyond all the troubles of this troublesome life. What can I say or think of her that I have not said and thought a thousand times. Needing her love and tenderness now more than ever, yet with the sad solace that the cannot feel the anxieties which torture me. My love for her can never grow cold and the impossible regrets for her are all that are left me. Will this day ever come to me with a serene and patient acceptance of the sorrow that stands forever in her vacant place.
My poor father this evening gave me what money he had and told me to take care of it as it was of no use to him. It touched me to the heart but I tried not to let him see it. 

Wednesday 15"  There has been a sharpness in the air all day. My father seems to be gaining strength and to feel more cheerful. We finished picking the apples and Tom and Henry put up the hall stove, mine and Saras. I put in a lot of glass and have been busy about a thousand things feeling the almost hopelessness of our situation. Still I try to be hopeful. I am going through just the same experience that Taylor went through. Trying to keep up a large place with all its trying incidents on insufficient means. Asking myself how long will we be able to do it. If I had only myself to consult I perhaps would know what to do, but with my      

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