Sunday, Feb 13, 1881 Colder again. Wrote to Booth from whom I found a letter at home. John McEntee came with his team and took Girard, my father and me for a ride out to Glen Erie where we crossed the creek and came home the other side. The creek was high and the ice gone from Glen Erie but the water was falling as it had grown colder. Mrs. Burgess died this morning. Poor old Mr. Burgess is left alone now in his old age and I pity him. He will not be long in following her. There is something inexpressibly touching in this separation of old people. They celebrated their golden wedding in 1876 and had lived together more than fifty four years.
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