Tuesday 15th January 1808

Dear Diary,
A dark, dull and damp day and, I suppose, the appropriate weather for a funeral. No one made mention of it at breakfast and I doubt they were aware it was taking place at all. They were all busy with their own vapid lives. I walked down through the undressed wood, the bare branches seemingly shedding tears upon the ground as I passed. The Chapel bell summoned the mourners but none must have heeded it or cared for the Chapel was empty, except for the Parson, Sam, the comely blacksmith, his plain workmate and I. The service was very simple and, under the circumstances, rather rushed. We sang no hymn. The Parson spoke briefly about this woman I scarcely knew and, quite obviously, he scarcely knew and then Sam and the other fellow carried the simple coffin outside. It was raining lightly as we stood around the graveside that Sam and his unattractive friend had prepared. They did not seem to have much difficulty lowering the coffin into the ground and inappropriate thoughts entered my head such as ' what magnificent arms Sam has' and 'I wonder how much of Old Collette is left after being semi devoured'. The Parson spoke a few more words of parting and we all stood silently with our heads bowed as the rain made our faces run with false tears. Suddenly from the wood beyond the churchyard there came a horrendous howling sound. The Parson's head shot up and he shrieked with fright. As the sound came from behind where he was standing he involuntarily leapt forward. He tottered on the edge of the grave before falling forward into it with a further cry of horror. I rushed to his aid and held out a hand, but as he grasped it and pulled upon it in his panic to get out, he pulled me in on top of him. Luckily Sam and his crude companion were on hand to assist us. I pushed as they pulled the Parson out and then held out my hand to Sam. What a firm grip he had and he lifted me out with ease. I confess I might have held onto him for a moment longer than was necessary as I said " Tell me Sam, what do you know of magpies?" "Magpies!" snorted the Parson " I think we should be more concerned with wolves!" He staggered back to the Chapel and Sam started to laugh. I hope Old Collette will forgive us for the laugh was rather infectious and we stood beneath the weeping trees and the tears rolled down our faces.