If I were to write a diary here, it would be after the following sort:—
Monday.—Another shark! Mercy on us! What a brute! But not so big as the other.
Tuesday.—We had capital honey this morning to breakfast; eightpence per lb.—freshly expressed from the wax, and got from Granny Jolter's farm.
Wednesday.—My Times did not come by to-day's post, and I feel I don't know how.
Thursday.—The "hot crab" which we had at the parsonage, where we dined to-day, was exquisite. The way it is done is—the whole of the inside, and the claws, having been mixed together with a little rich gravy, (sometimes cream is used;) curry-paste, not curry-powder, and very fine fried crumbs of bread, is put into the shell of the crab and then salamandered. If my cook can do it on my return to town, I will give her half-a-crown.
Friday.—Nothing whatever happened; but it looked a little like rain, over the downs, about four o'clock in the afternoon.
Saturday.—A day of incidents. Ten o'clock A.M.—The coast-guard man told me, that about five o'clock this morning, as he was coming along ---- cliff, a young fox popped out of a thicket close at his feet, looked "quite steady-like at him for about five seconds," and then ran back into the furze.
Eleven o'clock.—Saw a Cockney "gent" on a walking tour, the first of the sort that I have seen in these parts, and he looked frightened at the solitariness of the scene. Every thing that he had on seemed new: a dandified shining hat; a kind of white pea-jacket; white trowsers; fawn-coloured, gloves; little cloth boots tipped with shining French polished leather; a very slight umbrella covered with oil-skin; and a little telescope in a leathern case, slung round his waist. He fancied, as he passed me, that he had occasion to use a gossamer white pocket-handkerchief, with a fine border to it; for he took it out of an outside breast-pocket, and unfolded it deliberately and jauntily. Whence came he, I wonder? He cannot walk four miles further, poor fellow! for evidently walking does not agree with him: yet he must, or sit down and cry in this out-of-the-way place.
Two o'clock.—Tickler caught a little crab among the rocks. It got hold of his nose, and bothered him.
Four o'clock.—As I was sitting on a tumble-down sort of gate, talking earnestly with my little boy, I heard some vehicle approaching—looked up as it turned the corner of the road, and behold—Her Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria, Prince Albert, and one or two other persons, without outriders or any sort of state whatever! She was dressed exceedingly plain, and was laughing heartily at something said to her by a well-known nobleman who walked beside the carriage. I never saw her Majesty looking to so much advantage: in high spirits, with a fine fresh colour, and her hair a little deranged by the wind. She and her little party seemed surprised at seeing any one in such an out-of-the-way place, and her Majesty and the Prince returned our obeisances with particular courtesy.