27 May 1912 – 2 June 1912

By the Sea Sat upon a comfortable jetty of rock and watched the waves without a glimmer of an idea in my mind about anything--though to outward view I might have been a philosopher in cerebral parturition with thoughts as big as babies. Instead, little rustling dead leaves of thoughts stirred and fluttered in the brain--the pimple e.g. I recollected on my Aunt's nose, or the boyishness of Dr. ----'s handwriting, or Swinburne's lines: "If the golden-crested wren Were a nightingale--why, then Something seen and heard of men Might be half as sweet as when Laughs a child of seven." I continued in this pleasurable coma all the afternoon and went home refreshed.

Have returned to London and the B.M. My first day at the M. Sat at my table in a state of awful apathy. At least temporarily, I am quite disenchanted of Zoology. I work--God save the mark--in the Insect Room! On the way home, purchased:-- Peroxide of hydrogen (pyorrhœa threatened). One bottle of physic (for my appalling dyspepsia). One flask of brandy for emergencies (as my heart is intermittent again). Prussic acid next. Must have been near pneumonia at R----. Auntie was nervous, and came in during the night to see how I was.