River one or two feet higher than in July. A very little wind from the south or southwest, but the water quite smooth at first . . . Bathed at Hubbard’s Bend . . .

  The Solidago odora grows abundantly behind the Minott house in Lincoln. I collected a large bundle of it . . .

  Set sail homeward about an hour before sundown. The breeze blows me glibly across Fair Haven, the last dying gale of the day. No wonder men love to be sailors, to be blown about the world sitting at the helm, to shave the capes and see the islands disappear under their sterns,—gubernators to a piece of wood . . .