there's nothing more left in them. 'One gets nothing to eat, till
there are no teeth to bite it with,' as my sister used to say."

He always uses the words: "As my sister used to say," when he is on
the point of making a statement which he does not wish contradicted,
and I imagine he really thinks his sister did say it. He inherited her
closet and, before opening it, he always knocks at the door.

*

My little pitchman is a good bee-master. He knows how to take care of
bees and he calls them the poor man's pasture cattle.

"Since my sister's death," said he to me to-day, "I've had nothing but
bad luck with my bees. They won't have anything more to do with me."

*

I have written nothing for months. For whom are these pages? Why do I
torment my mind by recording every trifling incident or passing
emotion? These questions unsettled and perplexed me, but now I am calm
again. For months I have done nothing but work.

It seems to me that I must soon die, and yet I feel that I am in the
fulness of my strength. I am often rendered uneasy by the thought that
people trifle with my supposed madness.

*

At last I feel that my rest here was never complete, and that it might
have been disturbed at any moment. But now, let what will come, I shall
remain.

*

A storm! To us who note the sun, the moon, and every change of weather,
a storm is quite a different affair from what it is to those who only
look to see what weather it is when they are idle, or have a pleasure
party in prospect.

One feels as if transported back to the time of creation, as if all
were chaos once more; for the voice of the Infinite is heard in the
thunder, and His glory blazes forth in the lightning.

At a public gaming-table, while the thunder was pealing and the
lightning flashing, and the frivolous throng had withdrawn from the
game, I once saw a lady of noble birth who insisted upon going on with
the game after all the others had been frightened away. The croupiers
were obliged to keep at their work. This lady gives elegant
entertainments, and a servant who stole a silver spoon from her, was
sent to gaol. How low, to steal a spoon--! But what of her mistress?

There is, of course, one circumstance that I must not omit to mention.
Every morning, before repairing to the gaming-table, she attends mass.