Friday, July 27, 1890. -- Feeling fairly these days, and even jovial -- sleep and appetite good enough to be thankful for -- had a dish of Maryland blackberries, some good rye bread and a cup of tea, for my breakfast -- relish'd all -- fine weather -- bright sun to-day -- pleasant north-west breeze blowing in the open window as I sit here in my big rattan chair -- two great fine roses (white and red, blooming, fragrant, sent by mail by W. S. K. and wife, Mass.) are in a glass of water on the table before me.

   Am now in my 72d year.