About 6:20 in the morning I set out on my journey to Hartfield where I arrived about 9:20. After staying there and breakfasting, my brother Sam Slater and I rode to Broadstone to weigh up Mr Martin’s wool for my father Slater, which we accordingly did… After we had weighed up the wool, we dined at Mr Martin’s on some cold ham and cucumbers. My brother Sam and I came to Forest Row together where I called to see my cousin Ballard, but she was not at home, though I had the good fortune to meet with her as I came home. I came home just at 9 o’clock, very sober… My sister and cousin Ovendean went home about 7 o’clock… I spent 10d today as under:
To turnpike | 0.0.4 |
To ½ pint wine at Forest Row | 0.0.6 |
Though I went to Hartfield purely to serve my father–for he knew nothing about the wool, not even how many pounds there were either in a peck or tod of wool– but notwithstanding that–during the little stay I made at Hartfield, I think Mrs Slater (for I am sure her usage to me was ever like that of a mother) used me with abundance of reflecting scurrilous language, though what for I know not, but I think if there can be any parallel in this life with the miserable state in the future, it must be in living with a person of Mrs Slater’s unhappy temper, and more particularly so if she happens to be in any ways related. Mrs Slater might do well to sell oysters at Billingsgate, but to live amongst civilized people she must be an obstruction to theirs and her own happiness.