Wet, till 12, cloudy afterwards.

Rose at 9.30. ― Breakfast. ― Having taken medicine, I couldn’t go out early. ― At 12.30 went up & down & came back: poi, walked below the Rock of Florence Villa, & went over it. & again to D.J. Duncan’s ― “Le chalet ―” where I had called previously. Lady D., & “Anna Maria” were there: very Thackerayish=worldly ― & not worth thinking of: flexible & futile. ―

Walked to Paignton later, & returned to dine in the Coffee room.

Cubs in the room prevented my writing as I wished: an old Indian Colonel was agreeable.

Night of the Census, ― they put me down, “Edward Lear, ― at 48 ― born at Highgate,” but they did it so loosely that I might have put Jakob Pipkinson at 80, born at Boston or Mitylene. ―― All afternoon I was very unwell ― but cannot tell if from constantly taking physic, or from anything really upset in the inside. I incline to think the latter.

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]