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have mentioned above, gives to my new undertaking something of the dignity of a book. Aside from this sister Della, at my suggestion, is to embellish the end of each chapter with a suitable design. With these few explanations, my second chapter begins: & succeeding one will be in some respects, a simple record of my home life.

" " " Evening. 8 o'clock.

For many years, our four seasons, each with its respective charms & purposes, have held a secret corner in my heart. I have watched them come & go, on Time's swift wings; & The reflections which they have afforded me, at various intervals have been both sad & happy. They have often been the subject for my unpretentious pencil. I think that they afford a topic, which, for a writer, will never grow old; we loose any of its peculiar interest. Last night another month went out; to-day, its long successor, came in. This is a very ordinary event truly: but it has from unclear me to add still another to the tint of my "season-piceous" The poem in