June 4, 1868
Glengariffe, Ireland-on the way to the Lakes of Killarney.
Tuesday A.M. 9 1/2 o'clock, June 4th.
(Miss Hunt, one of our traveling companions says its Thursday-I have ceased all "note of time.'')
Waiting for breakfast at the Hotel for tourists. Chilly with the effects of yesterday's, last night's and this morning's cold. In my own country I would never have dreamed of undertaking what here I rush into with reckless enthusiasm.
For instance, a party of seven, Mr. & Mrs. Phillips, their children, Bessie and Will, Miss Hunt, Kate & I left Cork-64 miles distant, yesterday at ten o'clk A.M. in a remarkable looking coach drawn by a quick-footed span of horses-driven by a wide-awake son of the soil and accommodating on its one perched up seat in front, one perched up seat behind & two wide, low-down seats in the middle, our numerous and varied selves.
(At this point Mr. Phillips, handsome & florid, steps into the dining-room where we are cozily warming ourselves before a peat fire in the grate, after "replenishing" with mutton cutlets, eggs, toast, milk & coffee, and tells us to be ready without loss of minutes for our "establishment" will soon appear before