To Emma Darwin [3–4 February 1845]1
My dear Wife
Now for my day’s annals— In the morning I was baddish, & did hardly any work & was as much overcome by my children, as ever Bishop Coplestone2 was with Duck.3 But the children have been very good all day, & I have grown a good deal better this afternoon, & had a good romp with Baby—4 I see, however, very little of the Blesseds— The day was so thick & wet a fog, that none of them went out, though a thaw & not very cold; I had a long pace in the Kitchen Garden: Lewis5 came up to mend the pipe & paper the W.C. in which apartment there was a considerable crowd for about an hour, when Mr Lewis & his son William, Willy Annie, Baby & Bessy6 were there. Baby insisted on going in, I daresay, greatly to the disturbance of Bessy’s delecacy— Lewis from first dinner to second dinner was a first-rate dispensary, as they never left him— They, also, dined in the Kitchen, and I believe have had a particularly pleasant day.—
I was playing with Baby in the window of the drawing-room this morning, & she was blowing a feeble fly (fry) & blew it on its back, when it kicked so hard, that to my great amusement Baby grew red in the face, looked frightened & pushed away from the window.— The children are growing so quite out of all rule in the drawing-room, jumping on everything & butting like young bulls at every chair & sofa, that I am going to have the dining-room fire lighted tomorrow & keep them out of the drawing-room. I declare a months such wear, wd spoil every thing in the whole drawing-room.—
I read Whately’s Shakspeare7 & very ingenious & interesting it is—and what do you think Mitford’s Greece8 has made me begin, the Iliad by Cowper,9 which we were talking of; & have read 3 books with much more pleasure, than I anticipated.— I have given up acids & gone to puddings again.—
Tuesday morning— I am impatient for your letter this morning to hear how you got on.— I asked Willy how Baby has slept & he answered “she did not cry not one mouthful”. My stomach is baddish again this morning & I almost doubt, whether I will go to London, tomorrow; if I do you won’t hear. Poor Annie has had a baddish knock by Willie’s ball in her eye.—it is swelled a bit, but not otherwise bad.
Your cap cannot 〈be〉 found anywhere: Jane says you took one. of the snow is gone & the children are going out. Very many thanks for your letter10
News of the children and books he is reading.
Please cite as
Darwin Correspondence Project, “Letter no. 821,” accessed on 26 July 2016, http://www.darwinproject.ac.uk/DCP-LETT-821