Tuesday, January 7:
R. had a good night, and as we embrace before parting, he says, “Now I’m going to prepare for your next birthday!” He intends to start sketching today; he spent yesterday collecting his thoughts. At lunchtime he comes to tell me that he has composed 8 bars.
A visit we receive at coffeetime gives him an opportunity to state his views on our modern laws: one has only to mention the Jews, he says, and one is all but stoned. R. goes for a walk in the afternoon and feels well after it. He is reading Xenophon’s Memorabilia with great enjoyment, and he reads to us the page on which Charicles begs Socrates to leave the cowherds in peace.
A very curious, amicable difference of opinion occurred today between R. and me; the seamstress names her price, I find it too high, R. does not, and he writes to her, placing the order! All I can then do is laugh heartily and tell R. that since I do not possess his genius, I cannot expect to have his rashness!