Sunday. April 17. teenth. 1842.
A bright sun.rise, but dark clouds soon gathered around the horizon. A storm approaching.
The appearance of rain keeps us all at home. I should have gone to Church, but Garret appeared quite unwell, his cold having settled in his eyes, and makeing him feel drowsy and miserable. He is very thin, more so than usual, and does not have much appetite to eat. The children all well, and happy to.day. We had a wedding next door, and saw the party set out in a pelting storm for church. I put all the children to roost, and passed a quiet evening, with “mon mori.” Read aloud to him, “Jenyns Internal evidence of the “Christian religion”. This is a fine production, and if read attentively, would set aside the doubts of infidels, and unbelievers. It is said to have converted “Patrick Henry” the celebrated Virginian Orator.
The storm rages fiercely to,night, the wind
rain, and hail, beating against our windows.
My sleep was too profound to be disturbed
by these sounds, they are a “lulaby [sic]” to me
and make me feel more gratefull to Heaven,
for the peace within.
The water penetrated our ceiling, in the old spot.
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