Wednesday February 29th. [continued from page 10]
Thursday. March 1st. 1860. Raining quite hard this morning, but broke away before noon. It was quite late when we arose, I went to milk for the last time on our dear old Chester Co. farm this morning, the greater part of the cows were taken away last evening, but I got three buckets full of milk. A great many people here during the day, taking home their purchases. Uncle Charles and Uncle Augustus went home in the afternoon, so that we are by ourselves again this evening; I forgot to state on Monday of this week that I received a letter from my very dear friend Ellie M. Camden, and on Tuesday I received one from another very dear friend Lizzie H. Blackburn, the latter one contained the joyful intelligence that the writer, with some sixty or seventy others, had recently been converted and united with the church militant. God grant that she may ever prove faithful and at last be numbered with the church triumphant.
Friday March 2nd. A beautiful day. Aunt Mary Sloan came over after Mother this morning to act as manager at the funeral of Sallie Sloan, who died last evening at nine o’clock. We had a very large ironing to do, and I did not feel in the humor of ironing at all for I was not well; however, we got through before tea. None of us did anything after tea except get the dishes washed, don’t know when I was ever so tired as I am this night.
Saturday March 3rd. A beautiful day until towards evening when it commenced to rain. Quite a number of men here this morning bringing their notes and taking away their purchases. Dave Clemems came over to measure the lumber, brought quite a handsome young Doctor from Bucks Co. with him. He and Samuel took the “chap” into the business room while they did their business out-doors. Dave wanted me to go in, but my excessive bashfulness prevented such a course.
Sunday March 4th. A very high wind all day. The first Sabbath after the sale, and the first time that I have missed our horses and carriage since they were taken away. Charlotte and Amanda went to Salem in the morning. Josiah and Jonathan went to Willistown. Rachel and myself went to Presbyterian, heard a very sectarian sermon from 1.Timothy 3:15. “The church of the living God, the pillar and ground of the truth.” I did not much like the tenor of the whole sermon but felt especially ill at ease when he made the bold and erroneous assertion that “Baptists trusted to a mode.” (sic) In the evening Josiah, Jonathan, Charlotte, Amanda and myself walked down to the new school house at Howellville where we heard Mr. Patterson preach from the parable of the Prodigal Son. Jont, Amanda, and I called at Davis’ as we went down, to leave Ellen’s Album, it being