8 July 1847

As we had no lessons to-day, and had only to care for yesterday’s catch, Clara and I used the time to attend to our journals. We have to-day made a compact to record our summer adventures for posterity.

As I know she has no mind for preambles, she will drive headlong into the enterprise, with no introduction or explanation to readers, who should necessarily be citizens of a civilization that only distantly resembles our own. Extracts of our diaries shall be read by passengers of lounge-cars suspended from hot air balloons, that crisscross the country by means of steam-powered air-screws. They shall have little notion of a chamber-pot (as all bedrooms shall be equipped with suction-pipes), therefore, such things must be explained in detail.

First, the rules of the game: we are to make an entry each day, even if the entry is that nothing of interest happened. Secondly, we may not consult each other’s diaries. This is to ensure that each has the freedom to present the truth as she sees it, without fear of censure. Finally, Clara is prone to exaggeration.

Next, we must introduce the main characters of our adventures. I am Bernice (although I am known to kith and kin as Birdie) and the summer of 1847 found me with fifteen years of age. I have chestnut hair, and am of completely normal and sufficient height.

Clara is two years my senior and is a healthy person. People say that she has a very pleasant disposition, tho Papa always points out that this is evidence that providence prefers her sister. Clara is also taller than I am, which is an advantage of which pleasant girls should know little.

Next comes our mother, Paige, who is thirty-six. She shares Clara’s height, but adds to it the powerful shoulders of a life-long swimmer. She can cross many miles of open sea that most men would never attempt without a boat. She has little use for men, other than our Papa, who is a sea captain and adventurer.

Our Papa, Edwin Glanton, is forty-five, and is to-day at sea. He has had a stellar career as marine officer, and has fought many battles against corsairs and French sea-scoundrels. He is invincible! And thus he won the heart of our invincible Mama. Together, they produced two fine and sturdy daughters. Plus two sons, who, tho less sturdy, are much missed.

Papa sought to retire from the sea, and thus he founded an armaturage,¹ based on his sea-booty. He owned two ships outright and another three were under commission. In those years, he lived at home every month. However, last year, came the loss of two ships due to bad weather, and perhaps the fact that lesser men commanded, and he was cast into financial ruin. He then reassumed his career as ship captain, in order to rebuild his wealth.

We live on the northern-most cliff of Brier Neck, three miles from the sea-port of Gloucester, Massachusetts. Our house is no villa, but it has three floors! Clara and I have bedrooms on the top floor, plus a playroom. The best part of the house is a glass-enclosed seaward porch, from which we may watch dreadful ocean storms develop and descend upon us.

Our property has no advantages, as it is perched ten fathoms above a rocky coast covered in smelly seaweed. However, to the north lies Sand Beach, which is very pleasant. Beyond our southern cliff are four modest houses of local folk, of whom we are very fond, and for whom we do many services.

1. a maritime shipping company