One more day is gone.

We are one day nearer Roger's return.

This is the way in which I am growing to look at the flight of time; just as, in Dresden, I joyfully marked each sunset, as bringing me twenty-four hours nearer home and the boys.

And now the boys are within reach; at a wish I could have them all round me; and still, in my thoughts, I hurry the slow days, and blame them for dawdling.

With all their broad, gold sunshine, and their rainbow-colored flowers, I wish them away.
Alas! that life should be both so quick and so lagging! It is afternoon, and I am lying by myself on a cloak at the bottom of the punt--the _unupsettable_, broad-bottomed punt.