It's Tuesday.

Then Pa turned to Mary and Laura and said it was bedtime. If he was going to start early in the morning, he’d better start sleeping early tonight. He pulled off his boots while Mary and Laura got into their nightgowns. But when they were in bed he took down his fiddle. Softly he played and softly sang, “So green grows the laurel, And so does the rue, So woeful, my love, At the parting with you.” Ma turned toward him and smiled. She asked him to take care of himself on the trip and not worry about them, and they would be all right.