armly, since you need not feare my being ill."

I bit my Lip, and onlie saying Good-night, stole off to my warm Bed.

Returning from Morning Prayers with _Anne_ this Forenoon, I found _Mary_
mending a Pen with the utmost Imperturbabilitie, and Father with a
Heat-spot on his Cheek, which betraied some Inquietation. Being
presentlie alone with him, "_Mary_ is irretrievably heavy," sighs he,
"she would let the finest Thought escape one while she is blowing her
Nose or brushing up the Cinders. I am confident she has beene writing
Nonsense even now--Do run through it for me, _Deb_, and lett me heare
what it is."

I went on, enough to his Satisfaction, till coming to

"Bring to their Sweetness no Sobriety."

"Sobriety?" interrupted he, "Satiety, Satiety! the Blockhead!--and that I
should live to call a Woman soe.--Sobriety, indeede! poor _Mary_, her
Wits must have been wool-gathering. 'Bring to their Sweetness no
Sobriety!' What Meaning coulde she possibly affix to such Folly?"

"Sure, Father," sayd I, "here's Enough that she could affix no Meaning
to, nor I neither, without your condescending to explayn it--Cycle,
Epicycle, nocturnal Rhomb."

"Well, well," returned he, beginning to smile, "'twas unlikely she
shoulde be with such Discourse delighted. Not capable, alas! poor
_Mary's_ Ear, of what is high. And yet, thy Mother, Child, woulde have
stretched up towards Truths, though beyond her Reach, yet to the
inquiring Mind offering rich Repast. And now write Satiety for Sobriety,
if you love me."

While erasing the obnoxious Word, I cried, "Dear Father, pray answer me
one Question--What is a Rhomb?"

"A Rhomb, Child?" repeated he, laughing, "why, a Parallelogram or
quadrangular Figure, consisting of parallel Lines, with two acute and two
obtuse Angles, and formed by two equal and righte Cones, joyned together
at their Base! There, are you anie wiser now? No, little Maid, 'tis
best for such as you

Not with perplexing Thoughts
To interrupt the Sweet of Life, from which
God hath bid dwell far off all anxious Cares,
And not molest us, unless we ourselves
Seek them, with wandering Thoughts and Notions vain.'"

_April 19, 1665_.

I heartilie wish our Stepmother were back, albeit we are soe comfortable
without her! _Mary_, taking the Maids at unawares last Night, found a
strange Man in the Kitchen. Words ensued; he slunk off like a Culprit,
which lookt not well, while _Betty Fisher_,