Monday, July 12, 1886 I cut this notice of the death of H. K. Brown from Sundays Tribune. The last I heard of him he was a mental wreck. I would go to his funeral if I knew when it is to take place. I worked in the garden all forenoon and put the strawberry bed in order, wondering all the time if we are to enjoy its fruits another year. This feeling is in all I do now. While I was at work Sara came down with a telegram from Andrews from Cleveland saying they would be here tomorrow morning. Mary Sara my father and I went for a ride at 3 oclock. It was a fine, rich day and the landscape was superb. We went through Kingston out on the Saugerties road to Aunt Katrines and crossed over to the Flatbush road and home by the Roa-tina but the ride was too long for my father as I feared it would be. He was pretty tired but had a good appetite for his supper and went to bed. I am worried and full of anxiety, the old, old story.
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