ind
o' tough and ugly; _any_body may see that and welcome. Then comes my
next nature--a little softer--a little more removed from curious eyes;
then my inner one--myself--that 'ere little round ball which nobody
ever did or ever will see the whole of--at least, s'pose not. Now most
people see only the outer rind--a brown, red, yellow, tough skin and
that's all; but I _think_ there's something inside that's better and
more truly an onion than might at first be guessed. And so I'm an onion
and that's the end.

_17th._--Mrs. P.'s birthday, in honor of which cake and wine. Mr. P. was
angry with us because we took no wine. If he had asked me civilly to
drink his wife's health, I should probably have done so, but I am not to
be _frightened_ into anything. I made a funny speech and got him out of
his bearish mood, and then we all proceeded to the portico to see if the
new President had arrived--by which means we obtained a satisfactory
view of two cows, three geese, one big boy in a white apron and one
small one in a blue apron, three darkies of feminine gender and one old
horse; but Harrison himself we saw not. Mr. Persico says it's Tyler's
luck to get into office by the death of his superior, and declares
Harrison must infallibly die to secure John Tyler's fate. It's to be
hoped this won't be the case. [9]

_March 6th._--Miss L. read to us to-day some sprightly and amusing
little notes written her years ago by a friend with whom she still
corresponds. I was struck with the contrast between these youthful and
light-hearted fragments and her present letters, now that she is a wife
and mother. I wonder if there is always this difference between the girl
and woman? If so, heaven forbid I should ever cease to be a child!

_18th._--Headache--Nannie sick; held her in my arms two or three hours;
had a great fuss with her about taking her medicine, but at last out
came my word _must_, and the little witch knew it meant all it said and
down went the oil in a jiffy, while I stood by laughing at myself for my
pretension of dignity. The poor child couldn't go to sleep till she had
thanked me over and over for making her mind and for taking care of her,
and wouldn't let go my hand, so I had to sit up until very late--and
then I was sick and sad and restless, for I couldn't have my room to
myself and the day didn't seem finished without it.

It is a perfect mystery to me how folks get along with so little
praying. Their hearts must be