Friday evening, dined alone at the club, later to see “Mayerling” and “The River” at an East Liberty Theatre. Both good films. The foreign films have fine direction, but their technical equipment is far below the American. “The River” was a thrilling document. How often does it happen that material gathered for information turns out to be good art!
     After return to club, walk in the park area around the museum to get the movie out of my head. A fine mild night, with a waning moon high in the east. The dark mystery of the light studded hills to the east.
The one drawback to the trip was the excessively mild weather, which, had I been dressed less warmly, would be no drawback.
     Saturday AM. By “Panhandle” to Steubenville” - I arrived there sometime after 10. It was warm, a dense haze in the air, the sun shining mistily. I walked up the hill of my Steubenville picture; I was sweating when I got to the top. I was amazed at how I had changed this scene, partly unconsciously. Mostly I liked my version best; but the rich velvety sepia tones in the unpainted clapboards of the old houses in the foreground seemed better than mine. All things had that chalky, bleached out appearance of the first real warm days of early spring. Things had a Saturday look.
     The heat oppressed and I returned to the valley and got on a trolley bound up river, in search of the long low shanties and huge bald hills I had seen once before. They proved to be at “Toronto” and I got off.
I started in at once drawing - some freight cars, several great square chimneys and a group of nondescript houses, with the great