[Sandwich—Friday, 21 June 1872]
Friday. The finest morning we have had. Water-drops hang on every grass blade. A lovely mist—no! atmosphere, veils the distant hills.
Nevertheless the day became excessively warm—so warm that we could do little after the early morning but sit and read. At night we drove; towards sunset a great thunder storm came on; burning like fire in the west from the sunset the sky everywhere else became black and stormy. Such peals of thunder and such lightning we never know elsewhere.
