10 April: Rain. Another King of Naples deposed today, he being
the third this year. Amos Henbane d of the Splenetick Flux. By-election
this day, since sittg MP, the Hon Septimus Smear d last month from the
Spasmodick Rumbles. At last count: broken heads: Artemus Wheelwright,
Thos Bindweed, Barnaby Belcher. Broken ribs: Jas Gotobed. D. for no apparent
reason: Amos Ploughshare. Won 5 sovs of Sir Oliver Foxbrush at wagers
as to the election result, he not know'g that it was a Rotten Botough
with but 3 electors, viz: Myself, Thos Trumpet and Obd Stinkwort
(ITEM: to Thos Trumpet, for vote, 0£, 5s, 6 1/2d).
Retired to inn in PM, where all talk was on effects of the continu'g
wet weather and its deleterious effect upon the crops. Jos Grundy said
that matters will mend when worats are seen danc'g in small circles paw
in paw, quotg rime heard of his Grdfthr: "When worats all in zircle go/
Dry weather be sure to blow." But Bt Fry animadverted that he had it wrong,
and that it should be weasels not worats, and that it was wet weather
not dry. Soon after, both carried out insensible. On return home, sternly
berated by my wife Jenny for continu'g habit of wagerg with Sir O Foxbrush,
whereupon I appli'd the cure universal to such annoyances, viz, giv'g
her 1/2 sov, at the which she became as quiet as the tomb, if not so useful
or decorative.
11 April: Drizzle. Elector of Saxony poison'd by Lutherans. Eli
Harbottle d from Gripg of the Guts. Coroner sat upon Amos Ploughshare
and found he d for no apparent reason. Abus'd elderly Methodist in the
AM.
In PM, much put in amaze by Mist Hathaway, who assur'd me privily that
her husb knows all The which news did place me in such distemper that
I was obliged to resort to that supply of cordial waters that I keep upon
my person. After consumg scarce a quart of the restorative fluid, it became
clear that I must resort to a stratagem to prevent this news reachg my
wife Jenny (knowg well that when afflicted by the Windy Vapours, her strength
is prodigious). No such strategem comg to mind, din'd but poorly upon
hash'd venison, boil'd lights, roots and 6 botts Madeira.
Seeg my poor appetite and spirits, my wife insisted I take physick she
learn'd of her mother, viz, a quart of badger's bile made palatable with
stoat's spleens.
(ITEM: to emeticks: 0£, 0s, 1/4d).
12 April: Storms. Wm Weevil hang'd for stealg a turnip. Elijah
Ragwort transported to the plantations for formg an illegal combination
amongst the farm labourers. Isiah Wildgoose d of the Foul Exhalations.
No strategem havg occur'd to me, resolv'd to visit the chirugeon myself,
takg with me (in case plans miscarry'd) my stoutest cudgel - the one I
use for poachers and relatives - and my man Grog. On see'g Dr Hathaway,
I impress'd upon him the need for secrecy in our domestick affayres, but
he being unwilling to incline to this view, the followg dialogue took
place, viz:
CHIR: Allow me the honour, Sir, of informg you that you are a Blackguard
and an Adulterous Scound'l.
SELF: Permit me to inform you, Sir, that you are a Singularly Feeble and
Unintelligent Worm.
CHIR: I would be greatly obliged, Sir, if you would do me the honour of
sticking your head into the most proximate dead bear.
SELF: May I make the request, Sir, should you find a taxidermist enough
in need of the work, that you oblige me and get st...
At this instant, Grog observ'd that the chirugeon was reachg for a charg'd
fowlg piece, and he had scarce propell'd me through the door before we
heard the detonation.
(ITEM: to breeches: 0£, 1s, 1 1/2d).
As we fled, Grog asked me "And how do you feel that went, Sir?" whereat
I belabour'd the dog soundly for his insolence.
(ITEM: to soothing lotions: 0£, 0s, 3d.)
Read part four of Squire Aldridge's
Journal
More parodies - from Agatha Christie
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