pg 87Wednesday. 13.teenth. April. 1842.

A cold rain threatening us. Sky dark and overcast.

I could scarcely get up this morning bed was so delightfull, and pains, and aches so numerous Spent my morning sewing, untill every part of my body ached Was drowsy and good for nothing. G. did not come up to dinner, I had no relish for mine.

Rain fell in torrents, before night.
Garret, brought me a note from Maria, she
was nurseing a sick baby, and no doubt ex
posing her own health. The note was written
at midnight, while watching the child.