Friday, June 24, 1887 The sun at last came out this morning and it has been a breezy, beautiful day. A part of the day I fancied I felt a little better but on the whole I do not think I am improved. A letter came from Miss Nesmith who had heard through Lucy that I was ill. Our cherries are rotting on the trees because there is no one to pick them. Girard finally found a man by the name of Sapp who would give 4 cts a quart on the tree. Today he sent a number of children to pick them and they have been a nuisance. I wish we had no fruit and will be glad to see the last of the cherries. Our fruit is only a nuisance to us. This evening there were fine effects opposite the sun with great cumulus clouds which I could have painted, they staid so long, but I am not able to paint and the conviction came to me most sadly. Sometimes I doubt if I will every be well again and the thought is a most unhappy one. I can see no reason why a man of my good constitution and regular and temperate habits should be paralyzed. I have thought a great deal today of what has gone, the friends, the members of our household, my dear Gertrude and life seems to me very uncertain and very sad. I had a letter from Alice. George had gone to see his father whose mind they fear is unsettled and all her company had gone and she was feeling lonely. Also a letter from Cousin Charlie McEntee.
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