Today has been spent in a variety of occupations preparatory to going to New York on Monday and I have had the half melancholy feeling all day that my work is done here for the winter, my work that has interested me so much and has been an important part of my pleasant home life. The older I grow the more averse I become to changes and I half lament the necessity which compels me to go to the city to face so many anxieties and uncertainties. It is undoubtedly better for me that I am obliged to go but I cant help a longing for the time when it will be for my interest as well my pleasure to remain in the country with all my belongings about me. Gertrude has been ill for three days and today I called Dr. Crispell who thinks she is doing well and that it will not be necessary to see her again. Poor Mrs. Lawton died today after years of suffering. Lucy and my mother went down there and came home about 9 o'clock in a fierce North East snow storm. I amused the baby as well as I could but he missed his mother. I attempted to repair one of his diapers which he submitted to most gracefully but I failed utterly and was obliged to give him to Josephine. He protested with all his power but she finally consoled him. It is astonishing to see how this little fellow shows his likes and dislikes. These instincts are implanted. Lucys new nurse came today and seems a very nice young girl and a great improvement on Katy. Uncle Philip has been here a week. He and Pa sit by the fire and talk over the Past. This is Gertrudes birth day, her 41st and I am sorry I have made no particular recognition of it. She always remembers mine and is sure to have a little surprise of some sort for me.