about my boy’s livery.  Here I spent an hour walking in the garden with Sir W. Pen, and then my wife and I thither to supper, where his son William is at home not well.  But all things, I fear, do not go well with them; they look discontentedly, but I know not what ails them.  Drinking of cold small beer here I fell ill, and was forced to go out and vomit, and so was well again and went home by and by to bed.  Fearing that Sarah would continue ill, wife and I removed this night to our matted chamber and lay there.

17th.  All the morning at the office by myself about setting things in order there, and so at noon to the Exchange to see and be seen, and so home to dinner and then to the office again till night, and then home and after supper and reading a while to bed.  Last night the Blackmore pink

     [A “pink” was a form of vessel now obsolete, and had a very narrow
     stern.  The “Blackmoor” was a sixth-rate of twelve guns, built at
     Chatham by Captain Tayler in 1656.]

brought the three prisoners, Barkestead, Okey, and Corbet, to the Tower, being taken at Delfe in Holland; where, the Captain tells me, the Dutch were a good while before they could be persuaded to let them go, they being taken prisoners in their land.  But Sir G. Downing would not be answered so:  though all the world takes notice of him for a most ungrateful villain for his pains.

18th.  All the morning at the office with Sir W. Pen.  Dined at home, and Luellin and Blurton with me.  After dinner to the office again, where Sir G. Carteret and we staid awhile, and then Sir W. Pen and I on board some of the ships now fitting for East Indys and Portugall, to see in what forwardness they are, and so back home again, and I write to my father by the post about Brampton Court, which is now coming on.  But that which troubles me is that my Father has now got an ague that I fear may endanger his life.  So to bed.

19th.  All the morning and afternoon at my office putting things in order, and in the evening I do begin to digest my uncle the Captain’s papers into one book, which I call my Brampton book, for the clearer understanding things how they are with us.  So home and supper and to bed.  This noon came a letter from T. Pepys, the turner, in answer to one of mine the other day to him, wherein I did cheque him for not coming to me, as he had promised, with his and his father’s resolucion about the difference between us.  But he writes to me in the very same slighting terms that I did to him, without the least respect at all, but word for word as I did him, which argues a high and noble spirit in him, though it troubles me a little that he should make no more of my anger, yet I cannot blame him for doing so, he being the elder brother’s son, and not depending upon me at all.

20th.  At my office all the morning, at noon to the Exchange, and so home to dinner, and then all the afternoon at the office till late at night, and so home and to bed, my mind in good ease when I mind business, which methinks should be a good argument to me never to do otherwise.