This morning My Pappa, Mr. Dana, Mr. Allen, Mr. Thaxter, Sammy Cooper, my brother
Charles, and myself came on shore and we all but pappa went and dined at Coll. Fleury's
lodgings which are at a french tavern, the master of which was born in South Carolina.
At half after six oclock we went to the play and came back at ten. One thing which
is remarkable is that all our Voyage we have not had once the sun set clear.1