Monday, 29 December, 1828

This day may be set down as a rainy day. Have crossed the river and rode several miles on the other side. I listened to the mother of the sick until I was twice tired. Her daughter would die. She was just like Mary and she died. She is just as her father was and he died. Her complaint began just as her brother was taken and he died. Oh! Doctor, can you do her any good? I think I can cure her. Oh, no. She will never get well. It is hardly worthwhile to try. It torments for nothing.