Friday, Nov 3, 1882 It was cold last night with the first hard frost of the season and has been cool and frosty all day. After dinner Sara and I (and Park) went over to the top of Hussey Hill returning over the bed of the West Shore rail road. We had a lovely walk. The men are preparing to erect the great bridge, and quantities of timber and iron are being landed. Maurice came to the table yesterday and is in a most abject and battered condition. I think with each debauch I see a renewed loss of what little moral sense he had left.
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