Wednesday 9th January 1808

Dear Diary,
Forgive my melancholy of late. I am out of my fug and my pecker is up once more. The great gusts of wind in the night have blown the cobwebs clear away and I rose in better spirit. So much so that at breakfast I hugged my elder sister and said " I apologise if I was of irritation the other day 'Jean'." She smiled and playfully banged me on the head with her latest reading material, a book of some weight, and replied, "I apologise also for besmirching your horse. It was spiteful of me as you were right, 'Persuasion' is a much less wordy title for my novel". I had never thought it could be so, my own sister had dirtied my Python. How wrong I was to blame the old woman and to call her a liar. Still, if my fortune continues as in recent days I would scarce be surprised to encounter her sat upon my water closet or ratching in Mrs Crutchlow's larder and then I shall be able to apologise for my misapprehension. I asked of Jane the meaning of the word she smeared upon my horse's flank. I am a Gentleman and therefore cannot repeat it here, in fact the very thought of it made me quite ill. I asked where she was privee to such language and she said she had read very widely and that I should not be so small minded. I am relieved to inform you that I did not encounter the old woman in my water closet or the larder during the day and I confess I did look under my bed before retiring tonight. I know that may seem odd but there is room for an old woman and her faggots to hide under there.