Yesterday I came to Senate as usual on a monday morning pleasing my Imagination and my heart with the hope and reputation of a Letter from -- my dearest Friend. No Letter for The Vice President says Mothers!
All Day in bad humour -- dirty Weather -- wet walking -nothing good -- nothing right.
The poor Post offices did not escape -- it was Some blunder -some carlessness of theirs -- in Philadelphia -- New York or Boston.
Or Perhaps Mam is Sick -- Oh dear! Rhumatisms -- Oh dear! Fever and Ague! Thus peevishly, fretfully and unphilosophically was Yesterday passed. Yet to divert it I read a Number of Books in Cowpers Homer and Smooked I know not how many Segars.
I have had the Agreable Society of Josiah Quincy and Martin Lincoln, to assist in consoling me a little of late.
There is absolutely nothing to write public nor private but such as the above.