CHAPTER XXIII.
March 4.
How the little sunshine of yesterday afternoon cheated us! This morning the drizzle, drizzle, drizzle of the March rains make me nervous, particularly when I have many patients to visit to-day. The past night seemed long enough for two, and the mice got so daring, creeping over me, that I could not shut my eyes for fear of losing the end of my nose; and you know, friendly Journal, I haven't any to spare.
The wind blows hard, and in the midnight the clatter of the tents was almost fearful.
My stove-pipe rocks to and fro, and I cannot cook, so I sit here idly scratching down with my pen. After all, life is about the same mixture all the world through; the same proportion of trouble, of joy, of care, of light and darkness is entwined; and perhaps I am as happy as any one. I like to rear great air-castles; by the time they tumble down, as tumble down they always do, I am prepared for it, and have removed my valuables to a place of safety, so the wreck is nothing but moonshine after all; and, as the materials are always at hand, costing nothing, I