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January, MONDAY, 20 1873 Got Up and managed some way or other to pass through the day. Sent the letter to Maz. Today I heard of the death of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. Poor fellow! When I hear of such great men dying then more than ever I ask myself what is this world but a short sojourn of sorrow. Wonder if all the tens of thousands of those who have read and admired his many and excellent works will think how great a man has been snatched from away by death. As I write this onc emote does the beautiful novel " the last days of Pompeii" place its characters before me and as I read the touching devoting the fluid give the bravery of the Greek and the hideousness of the Arbaces my heart sinks as I ask the question "can the master mind be dead?"

                                                                      TUESDAY, 21

Speaking. Eating. Drinking Water. Sleeping. This is the only way I can remember to have passed the weary hours of this most tedious day. But as the poet has grew it as his opinion that "where ignorance is bliss is folly to be wise". I will not lament at the poor appearance this day makes of itself.

                                                                      WEDNESDAY ,22

One week from today and I will be shaking oh so gloriously. What painter can put on a canvass the dreadful trembling of those legs the shaking of the frame but more than all the feeling within. But as Jim Aveilhe would say, "cheer up my friends." Speaking about Jim he intends to sing a part from "Trovatore". We both are working hard to go grand. I suppose that I will be as nervous when that fearful Wednesday comes as the young youth in flows ville who after the marriage ceremony slipped a nickel five cent piece which he had ready with another pocket. But I have quite a while yet to think of my maiden effort so I will drop the subject for the present. To night I was informed that probably I might go to New York on the morrow of course with this pleasing hope effort me I went to bed well satisfied with myself and the future. How quickly we change from sadness to joy. Thus morning how down hearted to neglect no one more joyous.

                                                            THURSDAY, 23

I have obtained permission to go ad one of a committee of two to procure a present which is to be given to the Father James H. Corrigan by the junior class. We leave the snow clad hills and muddy tales of Orange and it's surroundings and are soon in the great metropolis. We (Jim Aveilhe and myself) crosses the Christopher or Jerry: my first and I hope my last time. I have seen wicked, dirty, and dangerous looking ferry boats, but so far the Christopher line heads this file array. And after reaching New York what a week! However in spite of the ferry boat and the long walk we at last reached our destination. this was Appleton is the booksellers. We bought the works of shakespeare in fifteen different volumes. We then parted Jim to go to his house in zyxel st. And myself toward my way towards my home. In the course of an hour. I arrived there after having met papa on the street. Mary Susan and Kelly were out but mama was in and was as she always overjoyed to see me. The time passed quickly in so day a black it began to grow a out half past three. Many had not returned yet and I made an engagement to meet Jim at the Barclay st. At five so I had to go.