Saturday 2nd August 1808

Dear Diary,
And still the sky weeps.
The house is melancholy and dark. Wandering it's passageways the air is filled with sighs and quiet sobbing but all this mourning will not bring Betty Tert back to us. Perhaps my heart is hardening, so long is it, since it has been allowed to blossom. I look at the rain splattering the casement and add another sigh to the many others that have been issued this day.
Orphan Willy is to stay with us for now but Jane believes he has family that will be, as yet, unaware of the sorry circumstances. I fear she is in no great hurry to discover them for she has grown fond of the little lad and I confess that despite his occasional devilment there are times when he tugs at my stiffening heartstrings.
I wandered into the scullery for some oral distraction and found Mrs Crutchlow washing her jugs.
The door opened and in came Ned carrying an armful of wood for the stove and the pockets of his breeches bulging with carrots.
"I'll be with you in a minute, Ned," said Mrs Crutchlow not looking up from her rinsing, " pop the carrots on the table for me, will you?"
Ned was stumped as he stood there laden down. "Would you mind, Mr Austen?" he asked.
I smiled in acquiescence and began removing the carrots from his bulging pockets and placed them upon the table. Mrs Crutchlow dried her hands and turning, with hands purposefully, on her hips said;
"Right Ned, let's relieve you of your load."
I thought I espied a carrot I had overlooked, bulging in Neds breeches and quickly slipped my hand in to retrieve it. I grasped it's bulbous end and pulled. Ned gasped and the logs clattered noisily to the floor.
Mrs Crutchlow leapt back like a startled heifer. Ned stood there sheepishly clasping his nethers and I blushed momentarily before we all dissolved into helpless laughter.