Sunday, 21 June 1874

I slept in church, but the dog market was waiting for me. I took Walitsky and we set off. Nothing good, and the young bull puppy that I came back to buy with Maman was the most bearable of the lot. This young bull is christened Bagatelle; she is a bitch. I prefer bitches because they have puppies and I adore puppies. The devil pushed us to the Jardin des Plantes, where except for empty cages, a crowd of riffraff, and an atrocious heat, we saw nothing. Add to that great fatigue. From there, to refresh ourselves in the Bois; but since we are in a cab and I am in a brown hat, it was a pitiful refreshment. I saw Chimay.
We return and receive a telegram announcing a thousand francs. Miserere. I shall still not be able to buy what I want. A riding habit and a gray hat, another dress, a pair of boots, and several other things. For with these thousand francs we must depart. How stupid it is to lack money! Will a day come when I shall lack it no more? I pray to God for this and do not know whether He hears me.

Notes

In English in the original: bulldog.
Miserere: Latin, "have mercy" -- from the psalm; Marie uses it as an exclamation of comic despair.