Chapter 28. From the Journal of Fortinbras Took, S.R. 1158

22 September

Not much to say. Heavy rain continues. Gammer B. sings insess insec without ceasing her little song about “wash all our cares away”. How do I know this? It seems to be my fate to know such things.

23 September

Heavy rain continues. Fanny has decided, yestre day and to day and for the forseeable future (or is it foreseeable?), that I need to be kept from mischief, and so I am to take my place each day, from morning until bed-time, in the gammers' sitting room, where the knitting and gossip continue as relentless as the rain. It is my duty to pour out the tea, and sweeten it – one lump, or two? – and hold each skein of yarn to be wound into a ball. And more such things. I am nearly too weary to write at the end of such a day, much less two.

24 September

Heavy rain continues.

27 September

Yes, yes, I know, dear Journal. I have missed several days. Would it have been better to write, “Heavy rain continues” over and again, like Gammer B. and her little ditty? I would not think much of such an account, weather whether I were the reader, or the writer.

30 September

Need I say more?