Mr. Hubert, readie to address his Master or Master's Sonne on the merest Occasion, without waiting to be spoken to; tho' he expecteth Others to treat them with far more Deference than he himself payeth. -Dead tired, this Daye, with so much Exercise; but woulde not say soe, because my Husband was thinking to please me by shewing me soe much. Spiritts flagging however. These London Streets wearie my Feet. We have been over the House in Aldersgate Street, the Garden whereof disappointed me, having hearde soe much of it; but 'tis far better than none, and the House is large enough for Mr. Milton's Familie and my Father's to boote. Thought how pleasant 'twould be to have them alle aboute me next Christmasse; but that holie Time is noe longer kept with Joyfulnesse in London. Ventured, therefore, to expresse a Hope, we mighte spend it at Forest Hill; but Mr. Milton sayd 'twas unlikelie he should be able to leave Home; and askt, would I go alone?-Constrained, for Shame, to say say no; but felt, in my Heart, I woulde jump to see Forest Hill on anie Terms, I soe love alle that dwell there. Sunday Even. RIVATE and publick to a quaint but pleasing ; Quaker Lady, (the first of that Persuasion I have ever had Speech of,) by Name Catherine Thompson, whom my Husband holds in great Reverence. She said manie Things worthy to be remembered onlie as I remember them, I need not to write them down. Sorrie to be caughte napping by my Husband, in the Midst of the third long Sermon. This comes of over-walking, and of being unable to sleep o' Nights; for whether it be the London Ayre, or the London Methods of making the Beds, or the strange Noises in the Streets, I know not, but I have scarce beene able to close my Eyes before Daybreak since I came to Town. Monday. (ND now beginneth a new Life; for my Husband's Pupils, who were dismist for a Time for my Sake, returne to theire Tasks this Daye, and olde Mr. Milton giveth Place to his two Grandsons, his widowed Daughter's Children, Edward and John Philips, whom my Husband led in to me just now. Two plainer Boys I never sett Eyes on; the one weak-eyed and puny, the other prim and puritanicall -no more to be compared to our sweet Robin!... After a few Words, they retired to theire Books; and my Husband, taking my Hand, sayd in his kindliest Manner,-" And now I leave my "sweete Moll to the pleasant Com panie of her own goode and innocent "Thoughtes; and, if she needs more, "here "here are both stringed and keyed Instruments, and Books both of the older " and modern Time, soe that she will not "find the Hours hang heavie." Methoughte how much more I should like a Ride upon Clover than all the Books that ever were penned; for the Door no sooner closed upon Mr. Milton than it seemed as tho' he had taken alle the Sunshine with him; and I fell to cleaning the Casement that I mighte look out the better into the Churchyarde, and then altered Tables and Chairs, and then sate downe with my Elbows resting on the Window-seat, and my Chin on the Palms of my Hands, gazing on I knew not what, and feeling like a Butterflie under a Wine-glass. I marvelled why it seemed soe long since I was married, and wondered what they were doing at Home,-coulde fancy I hearde Mother chiding, and see Charlie stealing into the Dairie and dipping his. Finger in the Cream, and Kate feeding the Chickens, and Dick taking a Stone out of Whitestar's Shoe. -Methought -Methought how dull it was to be passing the best Part of the Summer out of the Reache of fresh Ayre and greene Fields, and wondered, would alle my future Summers be soe spent? Thoughte how dull it was to live in Lodgings, where one could not even go into the Kitchen to make a Pudding; and how dull to live in a Town, without some young female Friend with whom one might have ventured into the Streets, and where one could not soe much as feed Colts in a Paddock; how dull to be without a Garden, unable soe much as to gather a Handfulle of ripe Cherries; and how dull to looke into a Churchyarde, where there was a Man digging a Grave! -When I wearied of staring at the Grave-digger, I gazed at an olde Gentleman and a young Lady slowlie walking along, yet scarce as if I noted them; and was thinking mostlie of Forest Hill, when I saw them stop at our Doore, and presently they were shewn in, by the Name of Doctor and Mistress Davies. I sent for my |