Dear Diary,Such a glorious day that I could not remain indoors. I contemplated going outside disguised as a washer woman but decided against it perchance Willy Tert discovered me thus clad and I feel I have some way to go to improve my standing in his eyes. I found a secluded part of the garden, but well within earshot of others and settled down to read. Mrs Norris wandered past at one point but I feigned sleep, being careful to snore slightly so that she did not suspect that Death had taken me at last. I was reading an interesting piece about the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse when Ned crept up behind me and took me unawares. I gasped."Ned, my nerves are in tatters as it is," I scolded. "Sorry, Mr Austen, sir, but I have been cogitating," he replied. I gasped again.Ned! That's marvellous! I congratulate you on your diction!" I enthused. He smiled proudly for a brief moment then resumed a serious face."Well," he went on, "All these recent events, the gifts, the window, Python, the visitor in the night, could all be someone bent upon revenge. I was wondering...Mr Austen have you 'spermed' anyone?"
Dear Diary,Having slept much of the day yesterday due to the previous nights events, I found myself wide awake again last night. I fear I am becoming a nocturnal creature, yet one that fears the dark, now, more so than in the past. I must have slept a little for I awoke late for breakfast. Jane and Willy had long since left for the school and Mrs Norris was already snoring in an alcove, her dribbling pug rising and falling upon her chest, with each breath. When the rider arrived I was enjoying a delicious piece of ham so remained in the parlour, masticating. I heard the mumbling of voices in the hallway for some minutes then noticed the fellow ride off as hastily as he came. Fanny entered, a moment later, with a solemn face."What news?" I asked, afearing it was for me."Mr Scrote is dead," she muttered.It seems he had been discovered yesterday morning abed, lying face down and as stiff as a board. When he was turned over they discovered a frightened and naked, serving wench trapped beneath him. " You see, " said Mrs Crutchlow, when she came to remove my plate, " Even Death can make mistakes. He obviously got the wrong address."
Dear Diary,How people will laugh, when I am gone, when they read these diaries. They will titter and chortle at the sad, dull and uneventful life I led in the last months before my untimely death. They will definately be astounded by the lack of balls. I ask you, what have I achieved? Yes, I helped Father find his Todger and returned the stolen silver to the Chapel but apart from that it has just been endless organ fingering, jaunts atop the Knob, rides upon Python and a great deal of misfortune at the hands of Mother Nature. Why so moribund? Well, I have not been sleeping well these past nights, tossing and turning for much of them, probably with more emphasis on the turning rather than the tossing, but that is of no consequence. Late last night I became aware of an irregular clattering at my window and surmised someone outside was throwing stones at my pane to attract my attention. I raised myself and cupping my hands around my eyes, peered out into the darkness. At first I could see nothing then slowly the moon emerged from behind a cloud and the shadow lifted and I beheld a hooded figure clad in a long dark cloak. I stopped breathing when I saw that in it's left hand it held a long handled scythe. To my horror, it raised it's right arm and from the darkness of it's sleeve a pale hand extended and it pointed straight at me. That is when I screamed. I flung myself upon by bed and I screamed like I had never screamed before, long and loud and piercing.Ned rushed in first, shirtless and in baggy long johns. Even in my terror I thought he looked marvellous. I pointed to the window and he looked out and shook his head. I jumped up to look myself, but the figure was gone. Father entered next then Fanny and Jane. Ned grabbed a pillow and clutched it to his magnificently sculpted chest. Willy Tert appeared at the door all wide eyed and runny nosed and Jane left, to put him back to bed. I explained what I had witnessed and we all gathered about the window to peer out. All was silent, then we heard a shuffling outside the door. We all turned, looked and held our breath. The door slowly swung open to reveal a dark figure in the passageway beyond. It stepped into the light and Ned dropped the pillow and grabbed me and we both screamed together.Mrs Norris with her hair in ringlets, and her bosom barely restrained by a cotton nightdress is enough to startle any man. So I felt no shame. Ned sat with me awhile after everyone else had gone back to bed. My heart was still racing though now it was not through fear. "Do you believe me when I tell you what I saw, Ned?" I asked."Of course," he lied.
Dear Diary,I left the sanctuary of my chamber at the Grange and bravely ventured to Netherton for lunch with the misses Forster and Dixon. I had never entered Miss Dixon's cosy abode previously but her Father was out, worrying sheep, and she was at liberty to entertain. Mrs Marrs was there, with the identical twins, Matthew and Abigail,( Oh my! how they have grown!) and Mr and Mrs Taylor arrived, a little later, looking somewhat flushed and dishevelled from obviously recent exertions. It was jolly company and merry intercourse amongst good friends is always a boon. Miss Dixon had been busy in the kitchen and brought out a 'special' pie for the adults and a 'shepherd's pie' for the twins. "Made with real shepherds," I joked, then noticed Miss Forster and Miss Dixon exchange an uncomfortable glance. Mr Taylor spoke up,"Oh Indeed Mr Austen, do not joke, for a shepherd, hereabouts, went missing this very week."Miss Dixon clapped her hands and laughed,"Oh come, come, enough of this morbid talk, my 'special pie' will be going cold!"It was certainly a hearty repast and we sat, replete, about the table afterwards and talked of this and that.When I felt it time to depart I rose and thanked Miss Dixon for her hospitality."That was one of the best chicken pies I have had in a long time." I winked."Oh no, Mr Austen," she smiled, "It was not chicken pie. It was crow pie."Suddenly, Mr Taylor leapt up and dashed out of the door before me. I remained much more composed as is my breeding, and waited till I was well out of sight. A gentleman should never regurgitate in public.
Dear Diary,I am wondering if I should become a nun and enter Ballbanger Abbey in disguise. The walls around it are high and I have seen those nuns when they are displeased. Armed, with a heavy church candle, I am sure they would afford me protection should the moment arise. I have spent much of the day practising 'Ave Maria' in the library and when Jane came home from school she discovered me in her chamber trying on her now redundant wimple. The look on her face was nothing compared to that on little Willy Tert's face as he peeped out from behind her. She quickly ushered him out before I could explain and though I have since had an opportunity to account for my actions to her, little Willy glanced nervously at me all through dinner as he wolfed down huge mouthfuls of Mrs Crutchlow's venison casserole. It seems his mother is quite ill and Jane has generously offered to care for him until her recovery. I have since abandoned my plan since Jane has told me of the sackcloth undergarments one is forced to wear and that the Sister's live mainly upon goat's cheese churned between dawn and their daily masses. I'll resign myself to death then. Oh woe is me!'Tis such a pity...I can be so dramatic...and could have made an accomplished thespian!
Dear Diary,I have scarcely slept. I fear I must have offended someone greatly but know not how. Surely the dead flowers, boxed rodent and now the attempted theft of my Python are signs that someone intends me ill. Maybe I should escape to Canada and resign myself to live amongst beaver. I wished to confide my fears to Fanny but she was called to Cobbler's End to help the ladies freshen their rugs. Thus I sought out Ned. He is decent and honest and though quite common, I do trust him. I found him occupied with a hand job in his shed. He put down his crevice tool as I entered and found a bucket and upturned it and motioned for me to sit upon it. I began to tell him of my suspicions about my recent unwelcome gifts being related to the mishandling of my Python, whilst he rooted about in one ear with his little finger. As I finished he cried out;"Oh my God!" I nearly fell off the bucket with shock. "What do you think that is?" He asked holding out his little finger with something dark and moist stuck on the end of it."Ned," I breathed, " have you heard a word I've said?""Indeed, Mr Austen," he replied, " I think you are right. The anus lies with you.""Onus" I sighed.
Dear Diary,The congregation at Chapel this morning was assailed by the voice of Mrs Norris. Indeed it is plain to see she has the housing for a good set of lungs and the voice that issues forth is much like a cat being beaten with a bassoon. The Parson looked quite startled and I think the omission of the third hymn was quite a deliberate act. To get some rest for my poor assaulted ears and to enjoy some peace, I walked ahead of the others, back to the Grange, when I was confronted by a red faced and flustered Titty Clamp. Since working in the Scullery with Mrs Crutchlow she has certainly grown into her role, quite literally and is no longer the delicate girl she once was. "Oh Mr Austen, come quick! There has been an unwelcome visitor to the Grange," she gasped."Who?" I enquired." We don't know, but they have broke the parlour window," she went on. I indicated for her to stay and inform my parents who were following on behind and I quickened my pace towards the Grange. Ned, was picking up some of the glass from below the window as I approached."Did you see who did this?" I asked him."No Mr Austen, we were in the back but we heard the stone come through." I surveyed the damage carefully and was aware that Ned was still staring at me intently as if he had more to say but did not know how to begin."What is it Ned? Is there more bad news?" He nodded curtly and bit his lip. "It's Python, Mr Austen. He's gone!"I don't know why I rushed to the stable as there was nothing to be done. His stall was empty but his scent was still in the air. I sank wearily to the floor and put my head in my hands and was just about to sob when I heard the clattering of hooves approaching and Python cantered back in, his eyes wide and nostrils flared. I stood and held up my hand and he whinnied and came forward to nuzzle it. I stroked his neck to calm him and spoke soothing words and lead him back into his stall. Whoever had tried to take him must have been cursing I know not what is afoot but I fear we have not heard the last of it.
