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Came home: wrote journal, practised, dressed for dinner. At five, went into our neighbour's: Dr. ——, the rector of Grace Church, was the only stranger. I liked him extremely: he sat by me at dinner, and I thought his conversation sufficiently clever, with an abundance of goodness, and liberal benevolent feeling shining through it. We retired to our room, where Mrs. —— made me laugh extremely with sundry passages of her American experiences. I was particularly amused with her account of their stopping, after a long day's journey, at an inn somewhere, when the hostess, who remained in the room the whole time, addressed her as follows: "D'ye play?" pointing to an open piano-forte. Mrs. —— replied that she did so sometimes; whereupon the free-and-easy landlady ordered candles, and added, "Come, sit down and give us a tune, then;" to which courteous and becoming invitation Mrs. —— replied by taking up her candle, and walking out of the room. The pendant to this is Mr. ——'s story. He sent a die of his crest to a manufacturer, to have it put upon his gig harness. The man sent home the harness, when it was finished, but without the die; after sending for which sundry times, Mr. —— called to enquire after it himself, when the reply was:—
"Lord! why I didn't know you wanted it."
"I tell you, I wish to have it back."
"Oh, pooh! you can't want it much, now—do you?"
"I tell you, sir, I desire to have the die back immediately."
"Ah well, come now, what'll you take for it?"
"D'ye think I mean to sell my crest? why you might as well ask me to sell my name."