hard, said I; but may I not have to myself the closet in the room where
we lie, with the key to lock up my things? I believe I may consent to
that, said she; and I will set it in order for you, and leave the key
in the door. And there is a spinnet too, said she; if it be in tune, you
may play to divert you now and then; for I know my old lady learnt you:
And below is my master's library: you may take out what books you will.

And, indeed, these and my writing will be all my amusement: for I have
no work given me to do; and the spinnet, if in tune, will not find my
mind, I am sure, in tune to play upon it. But I went directly and picked
out some books from the library, with which I filled a shelf in the
closet she gave me possession of; and from these I hope to receive
improvement, as well as amusement. But no sooner was her back turned,
than I set about hiding a pen of my own here, and another there, for
fear I should come to be denied, and a little of my ink in a broken
China cup, and a little in another cup; and a sheet of paper here and
there among my linen, with a little of the wax, and a few wafers, in
several places, lest I should be searched; and something, I thought,
might happen to open a way for my deliverance, by these or some
other means. O the pride, thought I, I shall have, if I can secure my
innocence, and escape the artful wiles of this wicked master! For, if
he comes hither, I am undone, to be sure! For this naughty woman will
assist him, rather than fail, in the worst of his attempts; and he'll
have no occasion to send her out of the way, as he would have done Mrs.
Jervis once. So I must set all my little wits at work.

It is a grief to me to write, and not to be able to send to you what I
write: but now it is all the diversion I have, and if God will favour my
escape with my innocence, as I trust he graciously will, for all these
black prospects, with what pleasure shall I read them afterwards!

I was going to say, Pray for your dutiful daughter, as I used; but,
alas! you cannot know my distress, though I am sure I have your prayers:
And I will write on as things happen, that if a way should open, my
scribble may be ready to be sent: For what I do, must be at a jerk, to
be sure.

O how I want such an obliging honest-hearted man as John!

I am now come to SUNDAY.

Well, here is a sad thing! I am denied by this barbarous woman to go
to church, as I had built upon I might: and she has huffed poo