A goats story

13 June, in the year of our Lord 2022

Up, and betimes by the Messenger from my father that he is all a-stress, for they wish him to attend by appointment at St. Thos. Hospitalle in four days, which is Friday, and he thinks on account of this urgencie that the news they will impart must be very bad. But I think this too soon for any such intent, it being only four days after his being put again through the magick Contryvance, the sketches hardly dry on the page, and parry that I would wager the matter to be of a simple nature — which is, that they wish no more than to see him in Person, the Covey plague oblyging them other for 18 months; and I hope this calms him.
  The day being more pleasant than the night, when there was a great wind (the weather still coming in fits), after dinner I began to plant out my new garden bed, which I charged my gardener John to make by digging up the former raised beds made there by Mr. Ben Jones, which were all bedraggl’d and a poor sight, everywhere with wrasp berrys growing wild. But it vexed me to see the work I must do to right the job already payed for, which was done not by John, for he is overweight and hath bad knees, but by his son, who come two weeks since to dig the work with his girlfriend, though she sat out the morning at my table on the lawn, all the while looking at her pocket magick window and only rousing twice to move the wheeled barrow. Kneeled to take out weeds, turfs, stones and the roots of fruit cains, and, worse, found that to plant my new plants I must cut into the old weed control Membrayn, for they had not removed that either. By and by done, and much contented to see my summer bed started, by my own hand, with flowers there that will flourish in full sun, should there be any, which I fear there will not, the weather this year being so indifferent.
  At supper, Mr. M. Jones did fill me in on Progress Related to the Great Issue of his Coach and Next Doors Goats, of which I have not hitherto wrote in this Journall but which may be sommerised thus — viz.: that in spring, it being around March, I think, it was indicated to Mr. Jones, by some friends that stayed there with him, that a number of dints had appeared in the door of his coach, on the coachmans side, and in the silver footplate, there being severalle in both places, those on the door being of the order of 2ft 6in from ground levell, and all without explanacion, that the coach should be left intact at night yet so indented by the morn, so that they wondered it the work of a Polter ghost; but anon, by a process of Deductive Reasoning, that such damage appeared only after the goats belonging to the neighbours had yet again found their way to freedom; and on the further premises that goats are approximatelie 2ft 6in tall and known to run full tilt against their own Reflecktion, thus was drawn the inference and final arguement that they had head-butted the side of Mr. Jones’ Peugote. The consequinces of this state of Affayres caused the poor fellow sleepless nights, though not so much (which I think to be in his great favour and an admirable quality) for the extent of the damages than for the concern of his broaching [it] with his neighbours and the cost to them of the reperacion thereof. But in the end all are agreed civilly upon the terms, the coach to be took for repaire by Mr. P. Roberts at Beach Head while Mr. Jones and I pay another visit to Scotland (which will be a great conveniance to have it all done while away); all to cost 40l 3s. 3d., which is not inconsiderable, though I know the man to be a good worker and to charge a fair price, as he did when I ran over a boulder by Dr. Pryces house in Somersett. But, if it should please God to forgive me for the selfish nature of the thought, the unease I felt now for henceforth leaving my coach in the same place! — that it might be a casualty of the same cyrcumstance, which I could not but vouchsafe to Mr. Jones, who acknowledged that his neighbour, he not being a dull fellow, had blanched when first told the report of damage, thinking that it might not be to Mr. Jones old coach but to my fine unblemished new coach of six weeks, whose presence there he had already clocked. All of which hath resulted that the goats are now corraled behind a maximum securitie fence, which is as much I think can be hoped for, though I pray it proof against them.
  Matters thus settled to our present content, I set to choosing a bottle of wine, whereupon Mr. Jones asked if I have the tendency always to select one with a screw top over one with a cork, for the simplicity of its opening. To which, with some quickness of thought, and, I confess to the privacy of this Diary, slightly misleading purpose, I said that I did — but only to avert that the wine might be corked. ‘It might be screwed, though,’ says he. Which point I had not considered.
  After, the sunsett at this time being very late, I tasked the Messenger hie to Andrea, my fathers specialist Nurse at the Hosp., and enquire of her if she knows the justificacion for so urgent an appointment, for on that day, God willing, I shall be on my way to Scotland. And so, without reply for it was late, but settled in my own mind for having asked the question, to bed.