Yesterday was a still and cloudy day. This is another rainy day. On the whole, we have had a good deal of fair weather the last three months. Mr. Buttrick, the market man, says he has been to Boston twenty-seven times since the first of August, and has not got wet till to-day, though he rides in an open wagon.
I guessed at Goodwin’s age on the 1st. He is hale and stout and looks younger than he is, and I took care to set him high enough. I guessed he was fifty-five, and he said that if he lived two or three months longer he would be fifty-six. He then guessed at my age, thought I was forty. He thought that Emerson was a very young-looking man for his age, “But,” said he, “he has not been out o’ nights as much as you have.”
Some horse-chestnuts are still thickly leaved and yellow, not withered.
