it holy?  The moment the church-bell begins to ring, no matter where he is, or how soundly asleep, he runs out and gazes in the direction of the church, and as the last stroke strikes, lifts his nose high in the air and sets up the most awful wails, howls, groans, despairing remonstrances you can imagine.  No games with the boys to-day—­no romps, no going to Manchester, everybody telling me to get off their Sunday clothes—­aow! aow! aow!

Dr. Adams’ house has been broken into and robbed, and so has Dr. Field’s.  Mrs. H. gave us the history of a conflict in Chicago between her husband and a desperate burglar armed with a dirk, who wanted, but did not get a large sum of money under his pillow; also, of his being garroted and robbed, and having next day sent him a purse of $150, two pistols, a slug, a loaded cane, and a watchman’s rattle.  Imagine him as going about loaded with all these things!  I never knew people who had met with such bewitching adventures, and she has the brightest way of telling them.

Papa has got a telegram from Dr. Schaff asking him to come on to his little Johnny’s funeral.  This death must have been very sudden, as Dr. Schaff wrote last Tuesday that his wife was sick, but said nothing of Johnny.  He is the youngest boy, about nine years old, I think, and you will remember they lost Philip, a beautiful child, born the same day as our G., the summer we were at Hunter.  When the despatch came papa and M. thought it was bad news about you, and I only thought of Mr. Stearns!  There is no accounting for the way in which the human mind works.  And now for bed, you sleepy head.

Monday.—­A splendid day, and we have all been as busy as bees, if not as useful,—­H. making a whip to chastise the cow with, M., Nep and myself collecting mosses and toadstools; of the latter I brought home 185!  We were out till dinner-time, and after dinner I changed the mosses in my baskets and jardinet, no small job, and M. spread out her treasures.  She has at last found her enthusiasm, and I am so glad not only to have found a mate in my tramps, but to see such a source of pleasure opening before her as woods, fields and gardens have always been to me.  We lighted this morning on what I supposed to be a horned-headed, ferocious snake, and therefore took great pleasure in killing.  It turned out to be a common striped snake that had got a frog partly swallowed, and its legs sticking out so that I took them to be horns.  Nep relieved his mind by barking at it.  I announced at dinner that I was going to send for Vick’s catalogue of bulbs, which news was received with acclamation.  The fact is, we all seem to be born farmers or florists; and unless you bring us home something in the agricultural line, I don’t know that you can bring us anything we would condescend to look at.  It is awful to read of the carnage going on in Europe.