No clergiman this morning so I read the service and a sermon (One of Chas. Kingleys) myself. Since then have been writing official letters. It is now afternoon—perfect weather—cool, bright, white fleecy clouds on every hand, a gentle breeze stirring—flowers, trees, grass all in fine order after the good rain a few days ago. Your post card of 21st came to hand yesterday—no sign yet of Dr Johnston, singular how he could have disappeared so completely. Willy Gurd is at the asylum today—he lives in the city (London) now—works every day in the meter shop. He has a man working with him, they are getting ready to produce meters, expect to be actually manufacturing (turning out meters) in another week or two.
At the asylum all is very quiet, Mr & Mrs Ingram will have given you a good idea how peaceably and quietly life goes on with us. I am satisfied, have really all I want except only I should like to see you oftener and have more time to give to the good cause—but perhaps (as far as this last is concerned) the little I do now is as much as I could do under any circumstances. I got the other day from England a little book by Havelock Ellis called "The Criminal"[.] I am greatly interested in it. We are all well—Little Pardee is taking private lessons (at the house) in Greek, Latin and French [/] we think after it is over he will be quiet strong and may go to school or college as well as any boy—he is in fact quite well now, the only thing being to keep him so
Love to you as always R M Bucke