[Manchester—Wednesday, 28 August 1872]
August 28. A cool morning! Southey says “the mornings are so cool he expects to see the snow lying on the summit of his nose when he gets up”—and we have a fellow feeling today but we find the sun warm enough later and gorgeous color overspreads everything.
Such afternoons in our row-boat! The sunsets are glorious and tide perfect for our enjoyment. I see our days of retirement drawing to a close. Reading Warton’s history of E. Literature with delight. Oh! for life in the country—for perpetual summer! What a foolish thought except to show our appreciation of the present. For that is all it means.
