Roused exceedingly early by the receipt of the mail, which announced to me that my Mother was a little better.1
I sat down and wrote a short Note to George2
before dressing myself to go off on my Journey. The Providence Stage started at a little after four o’clock, and we arrived at Providence in time for the Steam Boat Washington at twelve. Nothing remarkable occurred excepting one of those awkward conversations between two gentlemen in the Stage concerning the relative merits of Genl. Jackson and my father which I dislike very
much to interfere in and yet which make me feel on thorns. Luckily little was said of an offensive character as the two were administration men and they shortly discovered who I was. We started directly in the Steam Boat with a large number of passengers of whom I scarcely knew a soul. I made acquaintance
with Mr. Morse of New York, a painter3
who knew me before I did him. The passage was remarkable for nothing but delay by a head wind, which retarded us two miles an hour in a trip otherwise perfectly fair. My sleep as bad as usual.