Saturday 23rd August 1808

Dear Diary,
Father returned from Manchesterford as we sat down for lunch. He sat down with us and winced noticably.
"A long, hard ride, Dear?' asked Mother.
"Indeed," he nodded.
I could tell he was surprised to see me still at the Grange but Mother whispered in his ear and he nodded again and smiled knowingly.
The evening brought 'Wussel Spwout', marching up the lane. As I saw him approaching, I rose from my chair and attempted to escape to my chamber and got as far as the parlour door before Mother said;
"And where do you think you are going?"
"I have .....er.....urgent business elsewhere," I spluttered.
"Sit!" She ordered, "and assist me in entertaining our new Parson."
"May I be excused?" Asked Fanny, clutching her pussy.
"Of course, Dear," smiled Mother, "but inform Mrs Crutchlow we shall be needing some tea shortly." She left with a huge grin and blew me a kiss before closing the door.
I was hardly needed for the ensuing intercourse for the 'Wevewand Spwout' hardly paused for 'bweath'. I feel I know his 'bwother fwom Bwadford' intimately for the Parson seemed keen to share his 'pwivate fwaternal pwoblems.'
It would have been the perfect opportunity to enquire about the use of his organ but I must have 'dwifted off' for suddenly he was holding out a hand and saying goodbye.
"I hope to see you at Chapel 'tomowwow'. I am to talk about the 'wole of wimmin in weligion'," he beamed.
"The role of rimming in Religion?" I asked, somewhat confused.
"Women, Wayne, Women!" snapped Mother.