To-day, if I had been on the wharves, the slight chill of an
east-wind would have been a blessing, like the chill of death to a
world-weary man.
. . . . But this has been one of the idlest days that I ever spent in
Boston. . . . . In the morning, soon after breakfast, I went to the
Athenaeum gallery, and, during the hour or two that I stayed, not a
single visitor came in. Some people were putting up paintings in one
division of the room; but I had the other all to myself. There are two
pictures there by our friend Sarah Clarke,--scenes in Kentucky.
From the picture-gallery I went to the reading-rooms of the Athenaeum,
and there read the magazines till nearly twelve; thence to the
Custom-House, and soon afterwards to dinner with Colonel Hall; then back
to the Custom-House, but only for a little while. There was nothing in
the world to do, and so at two o'clock I cane home and lay down, with the
Faerie Queene in my hand.
August 21st.--Last night I slept like a child of five years old, and had
no dreams at all,--unless just before it was time to rise, and I have
forgotten what those dreams were.
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