Raining again this morning, and no corn planted worth speaking of and no planting today. Clarissa came to plant but got her breakfast and left, too wet. – – Uncle David top dressed the clover lot in later this morning. Bill commenced taking “Osgood’s India Cholagogue” this morning. Had the potato ground manured by Uncle David after dinner. – – This has been another unpleasant day to me, everything seems to worry and annoy me. I suppose its owing to having new servants altogether, who know nothing of any of my old rules and want so much looking after to get them to do anything as I want it done. Charles and Ellen would wear the patience of Job out. They are both sprightly and full of glee and mirth, all the time singing, dancing, playing or something of the kind, which little accords with our feelings, poor downtrodden, subjugated “Poles,” weary, worn and sad, dragging heavily along, even those bright sunny days of Spring, tantalizing us as they come and go. I am often reminded of the Captive Jews when they sat by the rivers of Babylon and wept. They bring their harps upon the willows in the midst thereof.1Adapted from Psalm 137:2, KJV.