February, 1833, so says my Log-Book, that I went into Mrs. D-s' shop, and the aforementioned servant was there. I asked this servant if she could tell me of any one, who could, or would draw me a Landscape (it was not a plan, as a certain Lady imagined, as I wanted nothing with a plan) of Enterber Cottage, in order that I might get it engraved. She informed me that any of their young L-s would have done it for me, had they been at home. (indeed, thought-I-to-myself, a very likely thing, truly) I told her, that she need not mention it to them, for fear of offending them; after saying which, I went out. No sooner was I gone, than (I have been informed, by a very respectable, person, who at the same time was there) she exclaimed, 'he's a queer lad that, Mr. y thinks he is not quite sharp!!'

On my informer's telling me, I was struck dumb with surprise, knowing that I had always been very circumspect, as to what I said and did, when in this great Wise-Acre's presence.

My informer, kindly advised me, to be very mindful and careful in my business, (as I must confess I was not, at that time, too steady) that I might give no one occasion for malicious reports, to the injuring of my credit and cha

racter.

Thought-I-to-myself, its come to a fine pass, if such a silly, simple fool as I, must be so much noticed, and melted down with kindnesses! I wish, as to my part, that every one would mind and keep their own heads and understandings right; then, they will have enough to do.

The above taking wing in , I was rallied and jeered by some, and taunted by

others, who said, that I had no spirit in me, to suffer with patience such scandalous abuse; and that if they were in my situation, (and would to God they had been so) they would repay him with his own coin.

At the end of the week, I plucked up the little spirit I had, and with a tremulous hand, wrote to him the following Epistle:

SIR, The undersigned returns you his hearty thanks, for the trouble you have taken, in giving him so pleasing a character, as that of being crack-brained. I am eternally indebted to you for allowing, or perhaps sending, your servant up and down amongst Tea Dealers and Grocers, in whom you honour with your custom. However, wise and learned Sir, if it be my misfortune to be born, as you say, not quite sharp! I cannot help that, nor am I to blame. I think it very unlikely, noble Sir, that you should expect to find your humble crack-brained servant, even the one half so wise and under-> standing, and abounding in sense, as your politely learned self. Consider, most knowing Sir, that I am one of the unfortunate sons of Adam, who never had the blessing of a good education; and who, you further know, have such a very weak Head; and whose understanding is very limited and narrow. Thus labouring under an accumulation of infirmitiesand disadvantages, no wonder that I should, or am styled, by the Wondrous Wise and Literati, Crack-brained, or not quite Sharp! nor Correct! Had I been, instead of being so poor, in possession of four or five hundred pounds per annum, I would have given you the Retort

Courteous; but, as I am, must be forced to submit, to be trampled upon and crushed in the mire of Slander and Abuse, by any one, who even fancies himself learned and wise.

turn for your kindness, I shall, in due time, place a copy of this letter.... and the whole concern in print, as a small reward for the many kindnesses you have conferred upon meSo writes,

To

The supposed Crack-Brained, Insulted, Ill-treated, and Slandered, JEAN D' ENTERBERRE.*

J. Friendly, Esq. = x

Myrtle-Grove.

CHAPTER IX.

"In other men we faults can spy,
And blame the mote that dims their eye:
Each little speck, and blemish find,
To our own stronger errors blind,
Ere we remark another's sin,

Let our own conscience look within."

༣

After I sent the above Epistle, I got a good drubbing from some of my advisers. However presumptuous it might appear to them; (my writing to such a Noble Gentleman) yet, I should have been a greater fool than I am, had I not resented myself of such malicious reports, I do not at present think, that I was to blame,

• John of Enterber.

K

Near by cplen

+ Orton Bradley log. 7 Westmoriard

+ Eden Place

being pricked, and not slightly, in my very vitals! As the adage is, "Tread upon a worm, and it will turn again:" and though I am a poor, despised Butcher's son, yet, as insignificant as I am thought to be, there is a something sown in my Plebeian Blood, that will never brook, nor submit to unjust abuse, even from the Highest in Rank. Seeing what is now done cannot be undone; I hope Mr. Friendly (should he deign to honor this work with his attention) will not be offended, at my asserting in this work the above; as I deem, I should not have done myself justice, had I not laid it before the impartial, and, I hope, generous reader-who shall be Umpire betwixt us.

As I am telling, I must be a faithful historian, and though the reader may think the above and following, fiction; yet, it is not, being Biography from Real Life. But depend upon it, thou shalt not be troubled with my adventures long, as I have almost finished.

I find, in looking again into my Log-Book, that Monday, February 11th, 1833, was a very wet and windy day; and to my surprise, Mr. Friendly came to our stall, after having got the letter, and denied having ever said any thing to my disadvantage, and kindly told me, that if I did not mind, I should be getting into a scrape. (not the first I have got into, but wish it may be the last) Yet on the following day he contradicted his own assertion, as thou reader mayest see. My Book runs thus: February 12. On returning from meeting a fat cow, of R- - S--, Fleece Inn, our house of call, I unexpectedly met Mr. Friendly, who, without ceremony, seized hold of the collar of my greasy

jacket; (it was a wonder it did not defile him) saying, that if he'd had a horse-whip in his hand, he would have laid it smartly over my shoulders.' I, not the least daunted, told him, that he might do as he thought proper, since I would always stand forth in my own defence, (if I did not, who would?) insignificant as I was, against all the slander of the would be great, however big they might be. He (his lips quivering with passion) said, 'I ought to be confined in a Mad-house, asking me at the same time, what I meant by insulting him in that manner, as he never said, nor ever even thought of such a thing?" I asked his pardon, and said, that if it was a mistake, I would submit. He could scarcely articulate, for rage, yet at last exclaimed, you are a little-hem-what shall I call you? a little lying rascal! I'll prosecute you for a Libel!' (and by the bye, I must mind what I say now, for fear he should construe this into a Libel! its a hard case, that I cannot entertain my friends with my adventures, without the Gentlemen of the Long Robe buzzing about my ears) he bidding me at the same time, 'never more to enter his doors!' To his easy command, I promised an easy compliance; as I meant never more to go within his doors, to be termed and treated as an Idiot. Indeed, it was owing to his talkative servant, that I heard of this ludicrous, unjust report-I call it report.—I almost wish, I never had had an existence, rather than my character, of as little value as it is, should be blasted, and the remainder of my days rendered miserable. I may say with the Poet: