the quick glimmer of the wavelets was perceptible through my closed eyelids

September 19th. -- Lying by the lake yesterday afternoon, with my eyes shut, while the waves and sunshine were playing together on the water, the quick glimmer of the wavelets was perceptible through my closed eyelids.

It was perhaps fifty years -- perhaps more -- since the woodman had cut and piled those logs and sticks

September 7th. -- In a wood, a heap or pile of logs and sticks, that had been cut for firewood, and piled up square, in order to be carted away to the house when convenience served, -- or, rather, to be sledded in sleighing time. But the moss had accumulated on them, and leaves falling over them from year to year, and decaying, a kind of soil had quite covered them, although the softened outline of the wood-pile was perceptible in the green mound. It was perhaps fifty years -- perhaps more -- since the woodman had cut and piled those logs and sticks, intending them for his winter fires. But he probably needs no fire now. There was something strangely interesting in this simple circumstance. Imagine the long-dead wood man, and his long-dead wife and family, and the old man who was a little child when the wood was cut, coming back from their graves, and trying to make a fire with this mossy fuel.

"Look, papa, here's a bunch of fire!"

September 3rd. -- Foliage of maples begins to change. Julian, after picking up a handful of autumnal maple-leaves the other day, "Look, papa, here's a bunch of fire!"

"when I grow up I shall be two men."

September 2nd. "When I grow up," J---- , in illustration of the might to which he means to attain,---- "when I grow up I shall be two men."