Dreams of a quite different atmosphere washed away all the influence of yesterday’s spectacle from my imagination. – I never know what to make of Fr. O’Flynn. He is mid-way between the ideal and the practical, and as a result his work leaves no fruit. – To-day was a struggle against time. Just had enough to dash to Arthur, reduce my stamp debt to 10, and dash back again. Floundered through comp.: ‘Does a man know more of his own character than his friends’ and made a miserable mess of it.
