Extracts From Adams Diary | Page 2

ISLAND.
CAVE OF THE WINDS THIS WAY.
She says this park would make a tidy summer resort, if there was any
custom for it. Summer resort--another invention of hers--just words,
without any meaning. What is a summer resort? But it is best not to ask
her, she has such a rage for explaining.
Friday
She has taken to beseeching me to stop going over the Falls. What
harm does it do? Says it makes her shudder. I wonder why. I have
always done it--always liked the plunge, and the excitement, and the
coolness. I supposed it was what the Falls were for. They have no other
use that I can see, and they must have been made for something. She
says they were only made for scenery--like the rhinoceros and the

mastodon.
I went over the Falls in a barrel--not satisfactory to her. Went over in a
tub--still not satisfactory. Swam the Whirlpool and the Rapids in a
fig-leaf suit. It got much damaged. Hence, tedious complaints about my
extravagance. I am too much hampered here. What I need is change of
scene.
Saturday
I escaped last Tuesday night, and travelled two days, and built me
another shelter, in a secluded place, and obliterated my tracks as well as
I could, but she hunted me out by means of a beast which she has
tamed and calls a wolf, and came making that pitiful noise again, and
shedding that water out of the places she looks with. I was obliged to
return with her, but will presently emigrate again, when occasion offers.
She engages herself in many foolish things: among others, trying to
study out why the animals called lions and tigers live on grass and
flowers, when, as she says, the sort of teeth they wear would indicate
that they were intended to eat each other. This is foolish, because to do
that would be to kill each other, and that would introduce what, as I
understand it, is called "death;" and death, as I have been told, has not
yet entered the Park. Which is a pity, on some accounts.
Sunday
Pulled through.
Monday
I believe I see what the week is for: it is to give time to rest up from the
weariness of Sunday. It seems a good idea. ... She has been climbing
that tree again. Clodded her out of it. She said nobody was looking.
Seems to consider that a sufficient justification for chancing any
dangerous thing. Told her that. The word justification moved her
admiration--and envy too, I thought. It is a good word.
Thursday

She told me she was made out of a rib taken from my body. This is at
least doubtful, if not more than that. I have not missed any rib. ... She is
in much trouble about the buzzard; says grass does not agree with it; is
afraid she can't raise it; thinks it was intended to live on decayed flesh.
The buzzard must get along the best it can with what is provided. We
cannot overturn the whole scheme to accommodate the buzzard.
Saturday
She fell in the pond yesterday, when she was looking at herself in it,
which she is always doing. She nearly strangled, and said it was most
uncomfortable. This made her sorry for the creatures which live in
there, which she calls fish, for she continues to fasten names on to
things that don't need them and don't come when they are called by
them, which is a matter of no consequence to her, as she is such a
numskull anyway; so she got a lot of them out and brought them in last
night and put them in my bed to keep warm, but I have noticed them
now and then all day, and I don't see that they are any happier there
than they were before, only quieter. When night comes I shall throw
them out-doors. I will not sleep with them again, for I find them
clammy and unpleasant to lie among when a person hasn't anything on.
Sunday
Pulled through.
Tuesday
She has taken up with a snake now. The other animals are glad, for she
was always experimenting with them and bothering them; and I am
glad, because the snake talks, and this enables me to get a rest.
Friday
She says the snake advises her to try the fruit of that tree, and says the
result will be a great and fine and noble education. I told her there
would be another result, too--it would introduce death into the world.
That was a mistake--it had been better to keep the remark to myself; it

only gave her an idea--she could save the sick buzzard, and furnish
fresh meat to the despondent lions and tigers. I advised her to keep
away