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Went down to Fatty Melchers today to make a violin, we cut a piece of wood the shape of a violin then take some horsehairs and strech them over a brige and you can play a tune on them. in school i learnt to play on a piece of india rubber. you pull a piece of elastic out of your congres boot and hold it in your teeth and pull it tite and snap it with your fingers and you can play tunes that you can hear but no one else can. old Francis saw me snapping the elastic and came and took it away. i have got plenty more in my boot. i am saving money to buy me a cornet. when i get enuf i am a going to play in the band. +++
Skipy Moses was in the wood box all the morning. December 9. brite and fair, speakin day today. missed in Horatius at the brige. December 10. Clowdy but no rane. went to church. lots of new fellers in sunday school. me and Beany and Pewt and Pile Woods and Billy Folsom and Jimmy Gad and lots of others. Mister Winsor dident teach today, gess they woodent let him on account of the rooster fite.
The English poet fixes the date of the bridge, 4 Henry V and thus tells its story: King Henry the fyft, in his fourthe yere He hath i-founde for his folke a brige in Berkshire For cartis with cariage may goo and come clere, That many wynters afore were marred in the myre.
Aug. 1. me and Potter and Chick went fishing. Chick fell of little river brige with his close on. Potter caugt a whacking snaping tirtle. he gave it to Sam Dire and he cut his head of after it was cut of it wood bite a stick.
He looked a bit quizzical over the statement, "RODE FLOODED, BRIGE DOWN," because he happened to know there was no bridge and nothing to flood the road for several miles ahead.
The moon was beginning to show off at his right, and gave a faint luminus gleam, as he daubed his letters in crudely. "DETOUR to SABBATH VALLEY. Rode flooded. Brige down." His card was large, but so were his letters. Nevertheless in spite of their irregularity he got them all on, and fastened the card firmly to the most obvious spot in the barricade.
"God bless you," said she, fervently, and seized me by the hand. It was Mrs. C. and her sister. I gave He into their possession. Our troubles were over. We were at home. We rode through streets whose names were familiar, crossed the Carrousel, passed the Seine, and stopped before an ancient mansion in the Hue de Verneuil, belonging to M. le Marquis de Brige. This Faubourg St.
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