A mild day of April showers.
I arose earlier than usual this morning; my rest last night was delightfull. A comfortable was quite oppressive, and I threw off some cloths.
The rain prevents me from going out.
Julie’s under teeth are so loose as to annoy her; she is anxious to have them drawn. I have attempted with a piece of thread, but cannot succeed. Pulled one out with my fingers, “Sis” shed a few tears, but a piece of cake, soon dried them.
Patched Louis’s knees once more. Basted a pair new pantaloons for Bridget to sew.
This is Garret’s “Thirty Second” birthday, and the
last day of January. A month remarkable
for its mild spring weather, and always dear
to me as the birth month of “Mon Mari”.
I forget to give him a whipping on the occasion.
Read all the afternoon and part of the evening. Had a discussion with Bridget on “Roman Catholicism” She defends her cause bravely. I went to bed at half past ten; Garret set up late writeing
Julie, thinks her beauty spoiled, by the loss
of her tooth; it does disfigure her, as she
shows her teeth very much, whether talking or laughing.
I finished “Barnaby Rudge” and “Charles O Malley”, to night, do not admire either story much.
January, leaves us with the same pleas-
ant smile, she has given us through out her stay and while basking in her sunshine, we for
get her frozen heart.