Slept so sound that even Mina didn’t bother me as It would stagger the mind of Raphael in a dream to imagine a being comparable to the Maid of Chataqua so I must have slept very sound — As usual I was the last one up. This is because Im so deaf — found everybody smiling and happy — Read more of Miss Clevelands book, think she is a smart woman — relatively — Damons diary progressing finely –

Patrick went to city to get tickets for Opera of Polly, we can com

parrot

with Sullivans — We are going out with the ladies in yacht to sail perchance to fish, The lines will be bated at both ends. Constantly talking about Mina who me an Damon use as a sort of Yardstick for measuring perfection Makes Dot jealous, She threatens to become an incipient Lucretia Borgia, Hottest day of season — Hell must have sprung a leak, at two oclock went out on yacht — cooler on the water, Sailed out to the Rock-buoy. This is the point where Damon goes to change his mind, he circles the boat around several times, like a carrier pigeon before starting out on a journey, then we start right dropped anchor in a shady part of the open bay — I acted as Master of the fish lines, delivered them bated to all. The clam boquets were thrown to the piscatorial actors — Miss Daisy caught the first he came up to smilingly to seize the boquet when she jerked him into the dress circle, genus unknown — I caught the next — genus uncertain, the next was not caught. Fish seem to be rather conservative around this bay, one seldom catches enough to form the fundamental basis for a Pie — Dante left out one of the torments of hades — I could imagine a doomed mortal made to untangle wet fish lines forever — Everybody lost patience at the stupidity of the fish in not coming forward promptly to be murdered — We hauled up anchor, and Damon stearing by the compass, (be being by it) made for the vicinity of Apple island — While approaching it we saw a race between two little model vessels full rigged and about 2 feet long — Two yawl boats fulled apparently with US naval officers and men were following them, Are these effeminate pursuits a precursor of the decline and fall of a country as history tells us. — Landed at clock 4

30

. Came into Villa and commenced reading Lavatar on Facial Philosophy — Dot saw a jellyfish and vehemently called our attention to this translucent chestnut. — Barge called to take us to theatre via Winthrop Junction and Railroad. When we arrived and junction found we should have to wait some time, so we took an open street car for city — while passing along saw man on Bicycle, asked Damon if he ever rode one. He said he did, once practicing riding in large freight shed where floor was even with door of cars and three feet from ground, one day from reason he never could explain he went right through one of the doors to the ground, I remarked that I supposed he kept right on riding No said Damon I jumped back! Arriving at Ferry boat I asked Damon if it was further across River at high tide said he thought it was a he noticed the piles in the ship were at a slight angle — Arriving on the other side took street Gondola, arrived near top of Hanover Street When horses were unable to pull cars to the top of the hill, car slipped back, The executive department of my body was about to issue a writ of ejectment when some of the passengers jumped out and stopped Car, one passenger halloed out to let her go they would get more ride — Arriving a little too early for theatre, went to an Ice cream bazar frigidified ourselves, Then went to the Theatre, where we found it very hot, Solomon the Composer came from the cellar of fairies and sprung a chestnut overture on the few mortals in the audience chamber, Then the Curtain arose shewing the usual number of servant girls in tights. — The raising of the panapoly of fairyland let some more heat in — A rushing sound was heard and Damon said they were turning on the steam — The fairies mopped their foreheads — perspiration dripped down on stage from the painted cherubs over the arch — after numerous military evaluations by the chorus Miss Lillian Russell made her appearance — Beautiful woman, Sweet voice, Wore a fur lined cloak which I thought about as appropriate in this weather as to clothe the firemen on the Red Sea Steamers in sealskin overcoats — noticed one or two original strains the balance of the music seemed to be bagpipean Improvastarationes — Didn’t hear anything that was spoken except once when I thought I heard one of the actors say that his mother sung in the Chinese ballet — Our seats were in the baldhead section, After Theatre walked to ferry boat — Saw a steamer passing brilliantly lighted Mrs G asked what could be nicer than a lighted steamer on the waters at night — somebody suggested two steamers — arrived at sister ferry, took RR train, Saw Miss Russell with he last husbant Mr Solomon get on train, they stop I believe at the sea shore near us — Home — Bed — Sleep –

.

I find on waking up this morning that I went to bed last night with the curtains up in my room — glad the family next door retire early — I blushed retroactively to think of it — Slept well — weather clear — warm. Thermometer prolongatweln [?] progressive — day so fine that barometer anaethized [?] — breakfasted — Diaried a lot of nonsense — Read some of Longfellows Hyperon, read to where he tells about a statue of a saint what was attacked with somnambulism and went around nights with a lantern repairing roofs, especially that of a widow woman who neglected her family to pray all day in the church

Read account of two murders in Morning Herald to keep up my interest in human affairs — Built an air castle or two — Took my new shoes out on a trial trip — Read some of Miss Clevelands book where she goes for George Eliot for not having a heavenly streak of imaginative Twaddle in her poetry — The girls assisted by myself trimmed the Elizabeth collars on twelve daisies, inked eyes nose + mouth on the yellow part which gave them a quaint human look, paper dresses were put on them and all were mounted on the side of a paper box and labelled “The Twelve Daughters of Venus” I hope no College bred dude will come down here and throw out insinuations that Venus was never married and never had any children anyway — Girls went in bathing. Me and Damon went out in the steam Yacht sailed around over the lobster nursery for an hour or so — In the evening Damon started a diary — very witty — Miss Igoe told Damon she couldnt express her admiration, whereupon he told her to send it by freight. Lunched our souls on a Strauss waltz played by Miss Daisy, then we all set around the table to write upon our diaries, I learned the girls how to make shadow pictures by use of crumpled paper — we tried some experiments in mind reading which were not very succesful, Think mind reading contrary to common sense, wise provision of the Bon Dieu that we cannot read each others minds Twould stop civilization and everybody would take to the Woods — in fifty or hundred thousand centuries when mankind have become perfect by evolution then perhaps this sense could be developed with safety to the state, Damon and I went into a minute expense account of our proposed earthly paradise in the land of Flowers, also a duplicate north and we concluded to take short views of life and go ahead with the scheme, It will make a savage onslaught on our bank account. Damon remarked that now all the wind work is done there only remains some little details to attend to such a “raising the money” etc. Mrs Roberts hurt her Sophrano arm and could not come over an play for us as promised and thus we lost her perfumed conversation lovely music and seraphic smile — La femme qui-rit — Since Miss Igoe has been reading Miss Clevelands book her language has become dissylabic, ponderous, stiff and formal, each observation seems laundried–

If this weather gets much hotter, Hell will get up a reputation as a summer resort. Dot asked how books went in the mail, Damon said as second class mail matter, I said Me and Damon would go at this rating — suggested that Mina would have to pay full postage, Damon thought she should be registered. This reminds me that I read the other day of a man who applied for a situation as sexton in the Dead letter office. — Daisies sisters photograph rests on the mantel, shews very beautiful girl every fly that has attempted to light on it has a slipped and fallen, going to put piece chalk near it so they can chalk their feet, this will permit with safety the insectiverous branch of nature to gaze upon a picture of what they will attained after ages of evolution. Ladies went to bed, this removed the artientating [?] upholstery, then we went to bed.

Slept well — breakfasted clear up to my adams apple — took shawl strap and went to Boston with Damon with following memorandum of things to get.

Lavatar on the human face — Miss Clevelands book — Heloise by Rousseau — short neckties — Wethelm Meister — Basket fruit — Sorrows of Werther — Madam Recamiers works — Diary books — pencils — Telephone documents — Mark Twains gummed Potentiality of Literature ie scrap book. — also book called “How success is won” containing life of Dr Vincent + something in about Minas father and your humble servitor.

Found that only copy of Lavatar which I saw the other day had been sold to some one who was on the same lay as myself Bought Disreali’s Curiosities of Literature instead — Got Miss Cs book — Twains scrap book — Diary books, How Success is Won also fruit among which are some peaches which the vendor said came from California — think of a lie 3000 miles long — There seemed to be a South Carolina accent in their taste — Started back to office with fruit, apparently by the same route I came, brought up in a strange street saw landmark and got on right course again Boston ought to be buoyed and charts furnished strangers — Damon suggests American District Messenger buoys with uniform — Saw a lady who looked like Mina — got thinking about Mina and came near being run over by a street car — If Mina interferes much more will have to take out an accident policy — Went to dinner at a sort of No-bread-with-one-fishball restaurant then came up towards Damons office, met Damon Madden and Ex Gov Howard of Rhode Island, The Governor whom I know and who is very deaf greeted me with a boiler yard voice, He has to raise his voice so he can hear himself to enable him to check off the accuracy of his pronunciation The Governor never has much time, always in a hurry — full of business, inebriated with industry — If he should be on his death bed I believe he would call in a shorthand clerk to dictate directions for his funeral, short sketch of his life, taking a press copy of the same in case of litigation

Madden looks well in the face but I am told its an Undertakers blush — Went to Damons office he was telling me about a man who had a genius for stupidity when Vail came in dressed like Beau Brummel, both went into another room to try some experiments on Damons Phonometer — Saw Hovey a very very bright newspaper man told me a story related to him by a man who I never would have imagined could or would have told such stories I refer to a gentleman in the employment of the Telephone Co who Tomlinson nicknamed “Prepositum” because he got off that word in a business conversation, his eminent respectability so impressed Tomlinson that when he came out of his office asked me to take him quickly somewhere disreputable so he could recover. This story would have embarassed Satan — I shall not relate it. but I have called it “Prepositums Turkish Compromise” Hovey told me a lot about a 6th sense, mind reading etc made some suggestions about Railroad Telegraph — came home with Damon at 5 oclock — Damon has an ulcerated molar — Just before supper Mrs Roberts and another lady came in to visit Mrs G. Mrs R is a charming woman — Condensed sunshine — beautiful — plays piano like a long haired professor — played several of Lange’s pieces first time seeing them, This seems as incomprehensible to me as a man reciting the Lord’s prayer in four languages simultaneously — Mrs R promised to come tomorrow evening and bring with her a lady who sings beautifully and a boy dripping with music — Everyone after supper started their Dieviy [ed: ?] Mrs G Igse [?] — Daisy + Dot went to bed at 1130 forgot two nights running to ask Damon for night shirt — That part of my memory which has charge of the night shirt department is evidently out of order.

Dot introduced me to a new day at 5.30 am. Arose — toileted quickly — breakfasted — then went from boat to street car — asked colored gentleman, how long before car left — worked his articulating apparatus so weakly I didn’t hear word he said. — it’s nice to be a little deaf when travelling you can ask everybody directions then pump your imagination for the answer, it strengthens this faculty. –

Took train leaving at 7 from Providence for the metropolis of culture — arrived there 9 am “coupaid” it to Damons office — waited 3/4 hour for his arrival, Then left for the Chateau-sur-le-Mer — If I stay there much longer Mrs. G___ will think me a bore — perhaps she thinks I make only two visits each year in one place each of 6 months — Noticed there was no stewardess on the ferry boat, strange omission considering the length of the voyage and the swell made by the tri-monthly boat to Nantasket. — Man with a dusty railroad Co Expression let down a sort of portcullis and the passengers poured themselves out — Arrived Winthrop Junction found Patrick there according to telephonic instructions, another evidence that the telephone works sometimes, Patrick had the Americanized Dog cart and incidentally a horse, suppose Patrick would forget the horse, because last week he went into Boston to Damons city residence and turned on the gas + started up the meter + forgot to turn gas off from a state of innocence to the wildest pervarication, — arrived at Woodside Villa and was greeted Mamma with a smile as sweet as a cherub that buzzed around the bedside of Raphael — A fresh invoice of innocence and beauty had arrived in by absence in the persons of Miss Louise Igoe and her aunt. Miss Igoe like Miss Daisy is from Indianapolis, that producer of hoosier venus’s. Miss Igoe is a pronounced blonde, blue eyes, with a complexion as clear as the concience of a baby angel, with hair like Andromache. Miss Igoe’s aunt is a bright elderly lady who beat me so bad at checkers that my bump of “Strategic combination” has sunk about two inches — for fear that Mrs G___ might think I had an inexhaustible supply of dirty shirts, I put on one of those starched horrors procured for me by Tomlinson — put my spongy mind at work on life Goethe — Chewed some Tulu gum presented me by Mrs G___ conceived the idea that the mastication of this chunk of immutable plasticity — a dentiferous tread-mill so to speak, would act on the salivial glands to produce an excess of this necessary ingredient of the digestive fluid and thus a self acting home made remedy for dyspepsia could be obtained — believe there is something in this as my dyspeptic pains are receeding from recognition — Dot is learning to play Lange’s “Blumenlied” on the piano — Miss Igoe I learn from a desultory conversation is involved in a correspondence with a brother of Miss Mina who resides at Canton Ohio being connected with the Mower + reaper firm of Aultman & Miller. The letter received today being about as long as the bills at the Grand Hotel at Paris are I surmise rather a serious character, cupid-ly speaking. The frequency of their reception will confirm or disaffirm my conjectures as to the proximity of a serious catastrophe — A post office courtship is a novelty to me, so I have resolved to follow up this matter for the experience which I will obtain — This may come handy should “My head ever become the dupe of my heart” as papa Rochefacault puts it. — In evening went out on sea wall — noticed a strange phosphorecent light in the west, probably caused by a baby moon just going down Chinaward thought at first the Aurora Boreallis had moved out west — Went to bed early dreamed of a Demon with eyes four hundred feet apart.

Woke (is there such a word) at 6 oclock– slipped down the declivity of unconciousness again until 7. arose and tried to shave with a razor so dull that everytime I scraped my face it looked as if I was in the throes of cholera morbus. By shaving often I too a certain extent circumvent the diabolical malignity of these razors — if I could get my mind down to details perhaps I could learn to sharpen it, but on the otherhand I might cut myself- As I had to catch the 7.30 am train for New York I hurried breakfast, crowded meat potatoes, eggs, coffee, tandem down into the chemical room of my body I’ve now got dyspepsia in that diabolical thing that Carlyle calls the stomach, rushed and caught train– Bought a New York World at Elizabeth for my mental breakfast– Among the million of perfected mortals on Manhattan island two of them took it into their heads to cut their naval chord from mother earth and be born into a new world, while two other less developed citizens stopped two of the neighbors from living– The details of these two little incidents conveyed to my mind what beautiful creatures we live among, and how with the aid of the police, civilization so rapidly advances–
Went to New York via DeoGrosseo Street ferry- took cars across town- saw a woman get into car that was so tall and frightfully thin as well as dried up that my mechanical mind at once conceived the idea that it would be the proper thing to run a lancet into her arm and knew [ed: knee?] joints and insert automatic self feeding oil cups to diminish the creaking when she walked– Got off at Broadway- tried experiment of walking two miles to our office 65 5th Ave with idea it would alleviate my dyspeptic pains– It didn’t — Went into Scribner & Sons on way up and saw about a thousand books I wanted right off. Mind No 1 said why not buy a box of fluff and send to Boston now- Mind No 2 (acquired and worldly mind) gave a most withering mental glance and mind No 1 and said You fool, buy only two books, these you can carry without trouble and will last you until you get to Boston, Buying books in NYork to send to Boston is like “carrying coals to Newcastle” of course I took the advice of this Earthly adviser– Bought Aldrich’s Story of a Bad Boy which is a spongecake kind of literature, very witty and charming- and a work on Goethe Schiffer by Boynsen which is soggy literature a little wit + anecdote in this style of literature would have the same effect as baking soda on bread, give pleasing results.
Waited one hour for the appearance of a lawyer who is to cross-examine me on events that occurred 11 years ago– went on stand at 1130– He handed me a piece of paper with some figures on it, not another mark, asked in a childlike voice if these were my figures, what they were about and what day 11 years ago I made them– This implied compliment to the splendor of my memory was at first so pleasing to my vanity that I tried every means to trap my memory into stating just what he wanted– but then I thought what good is a compliment from a 10 cent lawyer, and I waived back my recollection. A lawsuit is the suicide of Time. — Got through at 3 30 PM– waded through a lot of accumulated correspondence mostly relating to other peoples business– Insull saw Wiman about getting car for Railroad Telegh experiment– will get costs in day or so. — Tomlinson made Sammy mad by saying he Insull was Valet to my intellect = Got $100 met Dot and skipped for the Argosy of the Puritan Sea; ie Sound Steamboat, — Dot is reading a novel– rather trashy. Love hash. — I completed reading Aldrich’s Bad Boy and advanced 50 pages in Goethe then retired to a “Sound” Sleep

(it’s the rest of the day, and a long one, so continue in the extended entry…)

Nature is bound to smile somehow, Holzer has a little dog which just came on the veranda. The face of this dog was a dismal as a bust of Dante but the dog
wagged its tail continuously- This is evidently the way a dog laughs– I wonder if dogs ever go up to flowers and smell them- I think not- flowers were never intended for dogs, and perhaps only incidentally for man, evidently Darwin has it right They make themselves pretty to attract the insect world who are
the transportation agents of their pollen. pollen freight via Bee line

There is a bumblebee nest somewhere near this veranda, several times one came near me– some little information (aquired experimenally) I obtained when a small boy causes me to lose all delight in watching the navigation of this armed flower burglar.

Had dinner at 3 P.M. ruins of a chicken, rice pudding – I eat too quick -

at 4 oclock Dot came around with her horse “Colonel” and took me out riding– beautiful roads– saw 10 acre lot full cultivated red raspberries. “A burying ground” so to speak.–got this exscrable pun off Dot

Dot says she is going to write a novel already started on — she has the judgement of a girl of 16 though only 12

We passed through the town of Metuchen, this Town was named after an Indian chief, they called him Metuchen the chief of the rolling lands, the country being undulating. Dot laughed heartily when I told her about a church being a heavenly fire-escape.

Returned from drive at 5 PM commenced read short sketches of life: Macauley, Sidney Smith, Dickens + Charlotte Bronte. Macauley cohen only 4 years ago omnivorous reader, used book language in his childish conversation, when 5 years old, lady spilled some hot coffee on his leg. after a while she asked him if he was better– he replied– “Madam the agony has abated” Macauleys mother must have built his mind several years before his body. Sidney Smiths flashes of wit are perfect to call them chestnuts would be literary blasphemy. They are wandering jewlets to wander forever in the printers’ world- Dont like Dickens- dont know why- I’l stock my literary cellar with his works later. Charlotte Bronte was like DeQuincy. what a nice married couple they would have been. I must read Jane Eyre.

—played a little on the piano- its badly out of tune- two keys have lost their voice. Dot just read to me outlines of her proposed novel, the basis seems to be a marriage under duress- I told her that in case of a marriage to put in bucketfulls of misery. This would make it realistic, speaking of realism in painting etc Steele Mackaye at a dinner given to H H Porter, Wm Winter and myself told us of a difinition of modern realism given by some frenchman
whose name I have forgotten, “Realism, a dirty long haired painter sitting on the head of a bust of Shakespeare painting a pair of old boots covered with dung” The bell rings for supper.

Sardines the principal attraction- on seeing them was attacked by a stroke of vivid memory of some sardines I eat last winter that caused a rebellion in the labyrinth of my stomach– could scarcely swallow them today They nearly did the “return ball” act.

After supper Dot pitched a ball to me several dozen times. first I even tried to catch. It was a hard as Nero’s heart – nearly broke my baby-finger — gave it up — learned Dot and Maggie how to play “Duck on the rock” They both thought it great fun, and thus is sunday– My concience seems to be oblivious of sunday – it must be incrusted with a sort of irreligious tartar. If I was not so deaf I might go to church and get it taken off or at least loosened- eccavi I
will read the new version of the bible

Holzer is going to use the old laboratory for the purpose of hatching chickens artificially by an electric incubator. He is very enthusiastic – gave me full details – he is a very patient and careful experimenter– think he will succeed – everything succeeded in that old laboratory- Just think electricity employed to cheat a poor hen out of the pleasures of maternity – Machine born chickens – What is home without a mother I suggested to H that he vaccinate his hens with chicken pox virus, then the eggs would have their embryo heriditarily innoculated + none of the chickens would have the disease. for economys
sake he could start with one hen and rooster. He being a scientific man with no farm experience I explained the necessity of having a rooster, he saw the force of this suggestion at once,

The sun has left us on time, am going to read from the encyclopedia Britannica to steady my nerves and go to bed early. I will shut my eyes and imagine a terraced abyss, each terrace occupied by a beautiful maiden to the first I will deliver my mind and they will pass it down to the utmost depths of silence and oblivion. Went to bed worked my imagination for a supply of maidens, only saw Mina Daisy + Mamma

scheme busted – sleep.

Woodside Villa
Boston Harbor.

After breakfast start reading Hawthorne’s English note Book don’t think much of it.– perhaps Im a literary barbarian and am not yet educated up to the point of appreciating fine writing– 90 per cent of his book is descriptive of old churches and graveyards and coronors — He and Geo Selwyn ought to have been appointed perpetual coroners of London. Two fine things in the book were these.
Hawthorne shewing to little Rose Hawthorne a big live lobster told her it was a very ugly thing and would bite everybody, wherupon she asked “if the first one God made, bit him”– again “Ghostland is beyond the jurisdiction of veracity” –

I think freckles on the skin are due to some salt of Iron, sunlight brings them out by reducing them from high to low state of oxidation- perhaps with a powerful magnet applied for some time, and then with proper chemicals, these
mud holes of beauty might be removed.

Dot is very is very busy cleaning the abode of our deaf and dumb parrot- she has fed it tons of edibles, and never got a sound out of it. This bird has the taciturnity of a statue, and the dirt producing capacity of a drove of buffalo.

This is by far the nicest day of this season, neither too hot or too cold.– it blooms on the apex of perfection — an Edenday Good day for an angels pic nic, They could lunch on the smell of flowers and new mown hay, drink the moisture of the air, and dance to the hum of bees, Fancy the soul of Plato astride of a butterfly, riding around Menlo Park with a lunch basket

Awakened at 8 15 AM. Powerful itching of my head, lots of white dry dandruff- what is this d–mnable material, Pertaps its the dust from the dry literary matter I’ve crowded into my noddle lately Its nomadic. gets all over my coat, must read about it in the Encyclopedia. Smoking too much makes me nervous– must lasso my natural tendency to aquire such habits– holding heavy cigar contantly in my mouth has deformed my upper lip, it has a sort of Havana curl. Arose at 9 oclock came down stairs expecting twas too late for breakfast– twas’nt. couldn’t eat much, nerves of stomach too nicotinny. The roots of tobacco plants must go clear through to hell. Satan’s principal agent Dyspepsia must have charge of this branch of the vegitable kingdom. — It has just occured to me that the brain may digest certain portions of food, say the etherial part, as well as the stomach — perhaps dandruff is the excreta of the mind– the quantity of this material being directly proportional to the amount of reading one indulges in. A book on German metaphysics would thus easily ruin a dress suit.

Menlo Park N.J.
Sunday july 12 1885
Awakened at 5:15 AM. My eyes were embarassed by the sunbeams -turned my back to them and tried to take another dip into oblivion -succeeded — awakened at 7 A.M. thought of Mina, Daisy, and Mamma G__ put all 3 in my mental kalidescope to obtain a new combination a la Galton. took Mina as a basis, tried to improve her beauty by discarding and adding certain features borrowed from Daisy and Mamma G. a sort of Raphaelized beauty, got into it too deep, mind flew away and I went to sleep again.