Clouds heavy, a storm approaching.
I spent this day within doors, took a short walk with Garret in the evening. Had a conversation with Cath Shanly, the cook, she does not suit me exactly. Her temper is peevish, and
fretfull. My memory does not retain the events of this day, posibly [sic] they were not varied by any thing new, or strange..
5. th. August. 1842.
A heavy rain, the August storm.
Mon mori, wished me to go to Niblo’s to see a new piece the “night owl”. I declined, and walked with him after tea. My mind was not in unison with the “Ravels legs.”
The streets were damp, although the rain was over for the evening.
For more on the Ravel’s, click here, and more on Niblo’s Garden, click here.