6th January 1826

Wretched day at school. Freezing cold – there was barely a scuttle of coal in the whole place – and Ballast in a precious bad temper. He grew terribly angry and purple about me forgetting a pluperfect. Then Muzzle called it the purpleperfect and we both got thwacked.

I asked Mama to check the lump on my head when I got home but she did not even bother. She said no-one ever died of an education. This only reveals her own terrible ignorance. Only last month, I read an article in The Terrific Register about a Frenchman whose skull was crushed by a set of badly shelved encyclopaedias. 

[note to self: buy next edition of The Terrific Register from Grafton] 

There is no word as yet from G. Forsythe. I hope he does not forget us and our dinner. I could do with a proper blow-out  –  just!