Our diaries here are more or less public property, and as we have
been nowhere or seen anything at all exciting since we last wrote,
I am going to copy down from the journals the incidents, if any,
of the last week.
You seemed to appreciate it the last time we
sent you home a copy, but you must forgive if it is somewhat of a
repetition to our numerous letters. The weather, for one thing, is
daily chronicled, as it takes up much of our thoughts, so much in
the future depending on its being propitious just at this time of
year, when the seeds are all sown and the hay almost ready to cut.
_Tuesday_. - Beautiful day, so warm and nice, without being
hot; everything growing, too, marvellously; even the seeds in the
garden, which we began to despair of, are coming up.
The men have been very low, on account of the scarcity of rain;
but we have had one or two thunder-storms lately which, have done
good, and in this climate I do not think one ought ever to give up
hopes. E - - has been painting wild flowers, which at this moment
are in great profusion and variety all over the prairie, most of
the day, varying her work by painting the doors of the room, which
were such an ugly colour, a pale yellow green, that they have
offended our artistic eyes ever since we have been here.
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