Wednesday, Mar 30, 1887 Still cold as Winter. I am glad to stay in doors. Have been selecting a number of my pictures upon which I mean to paint for a sale next year. Called on the Reeds at Oriental Hotel to invite Reed to go to the Club with me on Saturday but they are going to leave on Friday for their country place at Quoge. Went to the club and staid until midnight. This little poem of Justin Mc Carthy's Girard gave to me when I was home last week. It seems almost that it might have been written for me.