2 P. M.—To Flint’s Pond. It was the seed-vessel of the Canada snapdragon in the Marlborough road that I mistook for a new flower. This is still in bloom in the Deep Cut . . .

  Going through Britton’s clearing, I find a black snake out enjoying the sun . . . Our Irish washwoman, seeing me playing with the milkweed seeds, said they filled beds with that down in her country . . . Saw a smooth sumach beyond Cyrus Smith’s, very large. The elms in the village have lost many of their leaves, and their shadows by moonlight are not so heavy as last month. Another warm night.