June 27th.
A rainy day! And no glass in my house—only a board cover to the window. I made myself a nest on the sheltered side.
Nearer! Nearer!
June 29th.
Wandering through the woods dreaming of a banquet-hall.—The guests are witty.
I have put into the mouths of the guests all that the world has said to me, since first I went poetical.
June 30th.