Friday, 30 October, 1829

I have at work, spinning, a young woman named Nancy Corelius. She is indebted to me for medcal attendance. She is healthy and able to do any kind of housework, but is too lazy to do anything. She has no consideration about herself, nor cares how she looks. Her clothes are not half made or half adjusted to the body, and her face, hands, fet, and clothes are never clean. No telling seems to have any effect. She loves to be on the streets more than in the house. She can never be beloved or respected, but scorned by all and for no other cause than having her own way.