Day fine although there was a Sea fog hanging over us all the morning. I rode to town. Time a good deal taken. First came a man to procure a transfer of the Boylston Market share, which I had not more than effected when Mr. Conant from Weston came in to pay money long since due. This business settled I had an application of a man for a place, and one or two other incidental visits. I went to my House but found it so shut up that I was unable to get in. The rest of my time was employed in finishing a Deed for Mr. Boylston’s Trustees. Returned to Quincy having had an uncommonly busy period.
My afternoon was taken up in my usual occupations. Read the ninth Eclogue of Virgil, wrote my Diary and copied a little into my book of choice things—A letter of my Grandmother’s giving a curious account of an alarm during the Siege of Boston from a foraging party on one of the Islands.1 My father went into town to dine with Mr. Alex. H. Everett, and did not return until late. Evening quietly at home. I read to the Ladies a little of Sir Jonah Barrington which is more dull than I thought. Afterwards the Mirror. I was better today.