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135

Breakfasted at Mary's this morning and came home by the 11.30 train, still raining as it is this evening. 

Saturday Nov. 1" 1884.
It was still stormy this morning but has cleared up. I have been painting all day in my studio, but my work does not please me. I can not get into a quiet frame of mind and when I am troubled my work shows it. Sara drove my father down town today. I encourage him to help himself all I can but he dislikes to do the least thing although quite able to help himself. I feel full of anxiety about the winter. Business is so depressed I am afraid art will suffer. If I only felt like work and able to do good work I would be more hopeful. I had another letter from the agent of the New Orleans Exposition wanting to know who owned some of my pictures. I have written him a list of several persons, Fuller, Pinchot, Coykendall, Joe Cornell and Geo. Cooper and also Mr. Borden and given him an order on Weir for my "Clouds." It is very dull and sad here and I wish it were possible for Lucy to come on for the winter. I do not see how we are to manage. 

Sunday 2" Wrote a long letter to Lucy today and sent checks to Hubbard for our winter supply of coal, to Meyer for his bill and to Deyer for his. I am appalled to see my small bank account dwindling away and no prospect of anything coming in. It keeps me in a continual state of anxiety. My father seems very feeble and to have entirely given up any hope or wish to be better. His voice fails when he attempts to tell anything which is one reason why he does not talk more. John McEntee and Julia were here this evening and the house seemed so much more cheerful for it. A year ago tonight my mother died. I think of her as she lay on her little bed where we placed her after she died looking so peaceful and so entirely at rest and feel that I would not call her back to this sad house if I could. How bravely she bore all the responsibilities of this family and how she kept them in her mind even after she was helpless, troubled about our welfare to the very last. Happily we were in easy circumstances then and I could truthfully assure her that she need have no anxiety. It has been a sober but beautiful day and yet I have had no inclination to walk about to look at the landscape as I once had, too full of troubles to enjoy what was once so full of enjoyment to me. Wrote to Wood concerning the Art Union.

Monday 3" It has been a clear bright day but I do not enjoy the days as I ought to. I painted all forenoon but my picture does not please me. In the afternoon I drove my father out on the Hurley road as far as Mr Smiths. He has been out in the garden and sat out in the sunshine at the back of the house. I see my money fading away and expenses going on and no money coming in and I seem unable to think of [[strikethrough]] noth [[/strikethrough]] anything else. How often I have suffered in this way, but I never get used to it and am growing older and have less faith in my power to overcome obstacles. I wish I could learn to be patient. My father seemed more entertained today but he does not like to have us say he is getting better. He says he does not want to get better. He said tonight he was getting more helpless and could hardly get upstairs. It was because he was tired and had been more active today. Tonight there was a Democratic parade. The last one I hope. I should think they would be sick of marching about and yelling themselves hoarse. Tomorrow is Election Day. I have finally decided to vote for Blaine. My loyalty to the Republican Party which represents all that is best in politics had decided me. I dont like Blaine but I despise Cleveland and his party. 

Transcription Notes:
---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-04-27 16:49:26 ---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-05-02 10:03:46 .