Thursday 14th July 1811

Dear Diary,
Llewellyn Dowd called at Knob End this morning. I had forgotten to provide him with the list of comestibles he had asked for to ascertain the cause of Willow's alarming engorgement. I invited him in for tea and he stood, cup in hand, at the parlour window watching Harden Thicke tugging at the sticky willy.
"There's lovely" he mused. "What a fine fellow, Mr Austen."
"Indeed, Dr Dowd, he is certainly making short shrift of my unwanted flora and you would never guess what surprising beast he keeps down those tightly fitting breeches."
Dr Dowd suddenly spluttered and began to cough most alarmingly. I took his cup quickly for fear he would spill upon my new woollen rug and placed it safely upon the table before patting his back helpfully.
He soon recovered his composure but was still quite red in the face.
"Thank goodness," I smiled, "I was just contemplating sending Harden for the Doctor."
I chuckled at my own quip but Llewellyn Dowd, still ruddy, reached for his bag and left, thanking me for the tea.
I returned to the chaise longue and buried myself in 'Fatherless Fanny'.