Now for this morning’s breakfast.
Dr. Johnson, as usual, came last into the library; he was in high spirits, and full of mirth and sport. I had the honour of sitting next to him: and now, all at once, he flung aside his reserve, thinking, perhaps, that it was time I should fling aside mine.
Mrs. Thrale told him that she intended taking me to Mr. T——’s.
‘So you ought, madam,’ cried he; ‘’tis your business to be cicerone to her.’
Then suddenly he snatched my hand, and kissing it,
‘Ah!’ he added, ‘they will little think what a tartar you carry to them!’
‘No, that they won’t!’ cried Mrs. Thrale; ‘Miss Burney looks so meek and so quiet, nobody would suspect what a comical girl she is; but I believe she has a great deal of malice at heart.’
‘Oh, she’s a toad!’ cried the doctor, laughing—‘a sly young rogue! with her Smiths and her Branghtons!’[Branghtons!’]
‘Why, Dr. Johnson,’ said Mrs. Thrale, ‘I hope you are very well this morning! If one may judge by your spirits and good-humour, the fever you threatened us with is gone off.’
He had complained that he was going to be ill last night.