10th.—­I wonder who folks think I am, and what they think?  Sally R——­ sent me up her book of autographs with a request that I would add mine.  I looked it over and found very great names, and did not know whether to laugh or cry at her funny request, which I couldn’t have made up my mouth to grant.  How queer it seems to me that people won’t let me be a little girl and will act as if I were an old maid or matron of ninety-nine!  Poor Mr. Persico is terribly unhappy and walks up and down perpetually with such a step.

12th.—­ ...  I am sure that in these little things God’s hand is just as clearly to be seen as in His wonderful works of power, and tried to make Miss ——­ see this, but she either couldn’t or wouldn’t.  It seems to me that God is my Father, my own Father, and it is so natural to turn right to Him, every minute almost, with either thank-offerings or petitions, that I never once stop to ask if such and such a matter is sufficiently great for His notice.  Miss ——­ seemed quite astonished when I said so.

16th.—­ ...  I’ve been instituting an inquiry into myself to-day and have been worthily occupied in comparing myself to an onion, though in view of the fragrance of that highly useful vegetable, I hope the comparison won’t go on all fours But I have as many natures as an onion has—­what d’ye call ’em—­coats?  First the outside skin or nature—­kind o’ tough and ugly; anybody may see that and welcome.  Then comes my next nature—­a little softer—­a little more removed from curious eyes; then my inner one—­myself—­that ’ere little round ball which nobody ever did or ever will see the whole of—­at least, s’pose not.  Now most people see only the outer rind—­a brown, red, yellow, tough skin and that’s all; but I think there’s something inside that’s better and more truly an onion than might at first be guessed.  And so I’m an onion and that’s the end.

17th.—­Mrs. P.’s birthday, in honor of which cake and wine.  Mr. P. was angry with us because we took no wine.  If he had asked me civilly to drink his wife’s health, I should probably have done so, but I am not to be frightened into anything.  I made a funny speech and got him out of his bearish mood, and then we all proceeded to the portico to see if the new President had arrived—­by which means we obtained a satisfactory view of two cows, three geese, one big boy in a white apron and one small one in a blue apron, three darkies of feminine gender and one old horse; but Harrison himself we saw not.  Mr. Persico says it’s Tyler’s luck to get into office by the death of his superior, and declares Harrison must infallibly die to secure John Tyler’s fate.  It’s to be hoped this won’t be the case. [9]

March 6th.—­Miss L. read to us to-day some sprightly and amusing little notes written her years ago by a friend with whom she still corresponds.  I was struck with the contrast between these youthful and light-hearted fragments and her present letters, now that she is a wife and mother.  I wonder if there is always this difference between the girl and woman?  If so, heaven forbid I should ever cease to be a child!