The Jervis McEntee Diaries - June 11, 1883

Diary Entry:

Monday, June 11, 1883 I painted all forenoon on the figure for which Marion is standing, out of doors until it began to rain and afterwards she stood for me in my room. But I kept getting it worse and worse and finally rubbed out all I had done, with a despairing feeling that I am not able to do any thing. I am afraid I am going to fail on this. Feeling very discouraged I walked over to the cemetery and finished cutting the grass about the graves which I began several days ago and then walked out through the tunnel to the bridge, then up the track to Wiltwyck cemetery and home. The wind blew violently from the south and there was a most lonesome and forlorn feeling in the air. I wish I did not so easily get melancholy. I wrote Eastman a most melancholy letter yesterday and today I had a letter from him regarding the Newton trouble in the club. If my work was at all successful I would feel better but when that fails I am as wretched as I can be. I am unhappy enough this evening. Sometimes it seems as though every thing concurs to make our home wretched and alas, I have not the equanimity to meet the discouragements which I wish I had. Maurice came home this afternoon and Mrs. Davis saw him go to his room. Just what I have been dreading. He has been gone more than a week now and his condition must be something frightful. I had a talk with my father and plainly told him I thought he ought to tell him we would not have him here. He threw the whole responsibility on me which I will not assume and he felt very injured and very hard towards me. My poor mother was very agitated and I can see it tells on Downing. Altogether the outlook tonight is a most unhappy one. It may seem different tomorrow. I think it outrageous that one dissolute, selfish man should be allowed to spoil the peace of a whole household. If Maurice were at all trustable when he is himself I could better bear these trials, but he dont care how much he tortures us and apparently has no thought of his poor mother. He went deliberately upon this debauch and I think he ought to be made to feel the consequences of it instead of loading it upon us. I confess I have no compassion for him and shall not go near him.

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