Fine all day. Wrote early to Roëd cum Boothwick, about the Windsor excursion.

Then at 11.30 ― to Omnibus, & the Angel ― walking thence to Highbury Woodberry.

Only W.N. Miss Head, & Ralph N. there, the last of whom is a very nice humanity ― &, for all I can see yet, by a long chalk the best as to talent  & disposition ― of all my old friend’s boys.

It seems they really leave Woodberry: ― and I think this day is the last I shall see of its green lawn, its scarlet geranium beds ― its canal & meadows, & its far pleasant views: &, inside ― its hospitable table ― its dim greeny-lighted drawing room, & its many=interest=filled library.

So I came away at 7 ― & Ralph walked with me to Highbury. Thence alone by a frightful crowd, to the Angel ― thence bus home.


··· ― Oct. 13 ― 1862. Just a year has passed: ― & I don’t see ― (tho’ I wish that I could see,,) my prophecy is “borne out” as true by subsqueakiant events.

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]