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  P.M.—By boat to Fair Haven.

  The water has fallen a foot or more but I cannot get under the stone bridge, so haul over the road. There is a fair and strong wind with which to sail upstream, and then I can leave my boat, depending on the wind changing to southwest soon . . .

  As I returned I saw, in the Miles meadow, on the bottom, two painted tortoises fighting . . .

  Still finger-cold. I think I saw bank swallows.

  At noon begins a cold, drizzling rain, which continues at intervals through the next day. A cold May storm, wind easterly . . .

  Mr.Wright of the factory village, with whom I talked yesterday, an old fisherman, remembers the lamprey eels well, which he used to see in the Assabet there, but thinks that there have been none in the river for a dozen years and that, the stone-heaps are not made by them . . .

  Go on river . . .

  Hear a dor-bug in the house at evening.

  The small pewee, how long. The night-warbler’s note . . .

  I see a woodchuck in the middle of the field at Assabet Bath . . .

  The simple peep peep of the peetweet, as it flies away from the shore before me, sounds hollow and rather mournful, reminding me of the seashore and its wrecks, and when I smell the fresh odor of our marshes the resemblance is increased . . .

  C. [William Ellery Channing] has seen a brown thrasher and a republican swallow to-day.

  Come tomorrow & bring Mrs Fields to my house. We will give you a very early dinner. Mr Channing is to write a hymn or dirge for the funeral, which is to be from the church, at 3 o’clock. I am to make an address, & probably Mr Alcott may say something.

Yours,
R. W. Emerson