Thursday 24th July 1808

Dear Diary,
Oh, the comfort of one's own pillow and the familiarity of one's own bed led me to rise reluctantly this morning, but rise I did.
I did not elaborate too much upon the unexpected turn of events on my trip. Fanny was the one who was most keen to pry but I said if she would let me eat my breakfast in peace I would, later, tell her the tale of the boy who stuck his finger in the dyke. She was certainly keen to hear about that and so let me be. When I finally told her the tale, later in the day, she seemed most disappointed.
I took my Python out and rode him hard, took a brisk walk around Netherwater and this evening, after one of Mrs Crutchlow's culinary delights settled down and immersed myself in an unnerving tale entitled 'The Dark Knight'. It was dark indeed and unnerved yet enrapt me so, that when Ned threw a log upon the fire I was startled and squealed in fright at his pale face grinning in the firelight.
"Did you like being incontinent, Mr Austen?"
I threw the book at him.