[Campton—Tuesday, 18 June 1867]
Tuesday. The night shut down heavily yesterday. It is still warm this morning and raining heavily. I see small chance of any expeditions today, though when the rain stops I shall try for one and perhaps before. It was quarter before five when I arose but this does not seem early here for the farm-house is always astir. About three o’clock appears to be the time to hear the birds. They clamor wondrously then. The day opened warm and with rain. It was rain, rain all the livelong day with now and then a pause of perfect stillness without bird or breath of wind and then the rain would fall again—patter patter through the leaves. I cooked for J. from ½ past 7 till nine, then he arrived wet and tired—the horse found the roads heavy & they came but slowly. Thank God he is well, all is well.
He met two men in the cars who had been to see Booth in Hamlet. “I tell you” said the youngest, “you have to read the play to see what he’s talking about. You’d better read it the first chance you get, you’ll understand it a deal better then.” “Well” rejoined the other, “I like to see him in Hamlet, I always see him in that play! why! I have seen it three times, I tried Richard the Third once but somehow it didn’t seem natural so I went back to Hamlet.”
They continued to recount stories of the stage of more than doubtful authenticity, at last one asked the other if he had ever seen the elder Booth, No, was the rejoinder, but I’ve heerd that he acted Richard Third so true that they would get up and hiss—not him, you see but the wicked man which he seemed to be!!!
