Thursday 6th March 1808

Dear Diary,
I once met a fellow with an alarming twitch who pronounced he was never happier than when peering into a bush looking for ants. I grant you he did say he was called Napoleon and his best friend was a ferret which he kept secreted about his person, but to all intents and purposes he did appear quite sane.
I confess I am growing tired of bushes and thankfully have seen no ants while poking about in them. I am in and out and in and out of bushes and know not how much longer I can keep it up. My resolve in my 'wolf' hunt is wavering, even more so since after dinner this evening I felt a sharp nip in a 'private' place. When I felt it for a second time I just knew that something was not as it should be and rushed to my chamber and threw down my breeches. I was horrified to discover what, indeed, had bitten me. The spider that fell out upon the floor was unlike any I had seen before and of an alarming size. It must have crawled up there earlier in the day. I do not like to think how it had been occupying itself for the past few hours. Fear not! It shall bite no more!