A fine day, bright and beautiful after the fog
blew over. This must be our Indian Summer.
I made pies this morning, a large batch of pumpkins to please “mon marie.”
Maria came in, we walked out to.gether down Broadway; stopped in at Miss Aikins. M. dined with us; and went home after dinner. Garret complemented me to.day on my good looks; said I looked but “sweet sixteen”
He never looked better in appearance than now, having more colour and flesh than usual; so I could return his agreeable impression in good truth.
My evening was spent in the sundry preparation of mind and body for Sunday.