daily chronicled, as it takes up much of our thoughts, so much in
the future depending on its being propitious just at this time of
year, when the seeds are all sown and the hay almost ready to cut.

_Tuesday_.--Beautiful day, so warm and nice, without being
hot; everything growing, too, marvellously; even the seeds in the
garden, which we began to despair of, are coming up.

The men have been very low, on account of the scarcity of rain;
but we have had one or two thunder-storms lately which, have done
good, and in this climate I do not think one ought ever to give up
hopes. E---- has been painting wild flowers, which at this moment
are in great profusion and variety all over the prairie, most of
the day, varying her work by painting the doors of the room, which
were such an ugly colour, a pale yellow green, that they have
offended our artistic eyes ever since we have been here. I am said
to have wasted my whole morning watching my two-days-old chickens,
supposed to be the acme of intelligence and precocity. The
afternoon was spent in shingling the hen-house. It was only roofed
over with tar-paper laid on to the rafters, which answers well if
the wind doesn't blow the paper about, or that it has not any
holes; but as the hen-house is only a lean-to of the stable, the
roof of which we have been very busily painting, it has been
trodden upon a good deal in getting on and off the roof, and, in
consequence, the paper is much like a sponge, letting any rain in,
and drenching the poor sitting fowls; but with the shingles
overlapping each other on the tar-paper, the roof, will be quite
water-tight.

_Wednesday_.--Our factotum has gone into town, and we are