Dear Diary,A joyous day without 'snuff'. An ordinary, dull and uneventful day of fingering the Parson's organ for the Chapel service, merry intercourse with Fanny and the playful teasing of Father's one eyed Willie whilst sat upon Ned's magnificent erection. What a boon I have found it to be and indeed it is fast becoming a place where I am content to sit, almost as welcome as my seat upon Cobbler's Knob.
Dear Diary,Nightmare in Netherpool!As you know, I am very fond of balls and thus when I became aware of a large ball being held in the open air, indeed, upon the shore at Netherpool, I girded my loins and grabbed my crop and rode hard astride Python to experience it. It was such a shame that, after the glorious weather bestowed upon us recently, the sky remained overcast. Yet I am a man of impulse and eager to live, so a few grey clouds did nought to dampen my ardour for merriment. I found my new Netherpool acquaintances and was introduced to some delightful ladies from Frottingham and all was set for an evening of dancing and exquisite social intercourse which one rarely finds up Cobbler's Bottom. The atmosphere was indeed intoxicating and the music stirring but some became more intoxicated than others and I fear not by their own intention. Events took a turn for the worst when we retired for some respite to an apartment in the town. I could not possibly regail you with the convoluted events thereafter but it involved 'snuff', a disappearance and thankful rediscovery and concluded with me escorting the ladies from Frottingham, astride Python, safely back to their lodgings in Neston before returning home far earlier than I intended. My life may be dull here at Thrushcock Grange and I may be a man of moderation and sense but a life with 'snuff' is no life at all and I rejoice in my dullness.
Dear Diary,All the day I have had nought upon my mind other than the 'erotic' surprise I had been promised. My mind had poured over endless scenarios and possibilities and so it is no surprise that late this afternoon I drove Python hastily on to arrive at a little early at the Forcett Inn. Misses Forster and Dixon had only arrived moments before me and were just being seated in the dining room. We greeted each other warmly and were catching up on all the gossip, when I noticed Miss Dixon look past me and her smile widen."Mr Austen, " she announced, " may I present Alonge Donge."I turned to find an enormous gentleman towering over me, in an ill fitting suit. He had the whitest smile I had ever seen and it was most certainly the blackest face."Alonge is from Africa, Mr Austen and he is our 'exotic' surprise." Miss Dixon clapped her hands gleefully and squealed with delight at the look of surprise upon my face. It was certainly not what I was expecting and I smiled whilst thinking of foul deeds to occupy Ned upon my return. Alonge was a most charming fellow and over dinner told dreadful tales of his life as a slave before it's abolition last year. Miss Dixon was keen to hear of the african birdlife and gasped at his description of a bird bigger than a man that could not fly but ran and laid eggs the size of dinner plates."Have you ever stuffed a bustard?" she asked, eagerly, at one point, but we never found out for at that moment Miss Forster began to choke upon some of the fish she was eating. It was indeed a pleasant evening and I learned a few african words. As the conversation began to die Alonge said;"Would you like to see my 'djembe'? "The ladies looked a little startled, but I was keen.
Dear Diary,Jane has found her calling. I have never seen her smile so at dinner. She chattered endlessly about her first day at the school. She seems particularly fond of Willy Tert, but then I know they share a common vocabulary."How are his vowels?" I enquired. Mother, put down her her cutlery, picked up her napkin, touched the corners of her mouth with it then fixed me with a disapproving stare." I will not have such talk in this house, especially at dinner!" She glared."Mother, I said 'vowels' not 'bowels'," I sighed. She glanced briefly at my Father in embarrassment then resumed eating.Tomorrow I am to dine with Misses Forster and Dixon. The invitation was not written down but came by word of mouth. A lad called with the news and Ned relayed the message to me. It seems they have an 'erotic' surprise for me and can hardly wait for me to come!
Dear Diary,We had an unexpected visit from the Parson today. Ned and I watched him cautiously approach the Grange from the parlour window. Ned spoke his thoughts."He used to visit here quite a lot didn't he? He was always eager to get his hands upon Mrs Crutchlow's muffins. Then, there was that day when he saw your Father's Todger and he fled back up his rectum.""Rectory, Ned." I corrected.After a few moments he was shown into the parlour and entered nervously, glancing all about him. Mother and my sisters came to greet him and we were all sat before the fireplace when Father entered holding his Todger. The Parson leapt up whimpering. Mother stood and placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder;"Please do not take on so. Come let us stroke it together and you will see what a big softy it is."We sat transfixed as they both stepped forward, each an arm outstretched, towards the beast that Father was grasping tightly. Soon the Parson was laughing as he playfully patted it's head, his fear overcome at last.All seated once more he told us news from Cobbler's Bottom. Miss Quirrel had left the school as a consequence of recent events. I felt myself flush but do not think anyone noticed. "I am not surprised, " said Fanny. " I am sure she does not wish to be reminded of the dreadful attack.""On the contrary," said the Parson. " It seems that it was the attack that gave her the idea of setting up a new establishment in the city. She confessed she had never much cared for teaching and had always preferred the caning, so she is to Manchesterford to set up some kind of correctional institution.""Interesting." Father murmured, patting his one-eyed Willie that had found it's way onto his lap."But all that is of no consequence," continued the Parson, " what matters is the future of the school and the children therein." He turned to Jane. "Miss Austen, might you not help in our hour of need? You are indeed accomplished in the written word and am sure you would find great satisfaction in sharing your gift."Jane feigned to look as if his words had not flattered her, but Fanny nudged me and we both knew she would assent.The Parson left in a much jauntier manner than whence he came, nibbling upon one of Mrs Crutchlow's delicious buns.
Dear Diary,How unfortunate that I returned too late to attend Chapel this morning with the 'good' Christian people of Cobbler's Bottom. My trip to Netherpool did not disappoint. Life is all about new experiences and I felt I lived a little last night. I made some new acquaintances, well known in that place and they lead me on, though some might say, astray. Much of the evening was spent carousing in a dark and crowded basement where many were dressed in leather garments...well, when I say dressed, I mean that loosely, like some of the garments in fact. One generous fellow of heart and girth, leaned towards me and asked if I liked 'puppies'. I replied that I did indeed. He smiled and he handed me a small bottle which I was about to drink but he stayed my hand and indicated that it was for sniffing. How odd! I declined telling him I had very sensitive olfactory organs. I doubt he understood for he expressed a desire to handle them. I laughed and asked how could he get up my nasal orifices with such large hands. Worryingly, he seemed keen to try so I excused myself and went to the lavatory. On returning I entered the wrong door and found myself in what appeared to be a dark cupboard. I turned to exit and suddenly realised I was not alone for a number of hands reached out from the darkness to pull me back in. I managed to extricate myself with some dignity though I fear I may have seemed a little dishevelled and flushed on returning to my new friends. It was the early hours of the morning when I finally got out into the cool night air. One of my new acquaintances, a Mr Ribbleton, offered me shelter at his abode and we rode the short distance to Neston. What an accomodating fellow he was.
Dear Diary,Oh impulsive man that I am! I am at once to Netherpool for amusement and carousing therein. I cannot stay cooped up here a moment longer or I shall go mad...well, madder than I already am. I pray the parents in Netherpool are not for locking up their sons unlike those parents in Austria, who I hear, lock up their daughters!I shall return anon.
