August, Monday.-We were to have Mr. Cator and other company to dinner; and all breakfast Mr. Seward kept plaguing poor Mr. Musgrave, who is an incessant talker, about the difficulty he would have in making his part good with Mr. Cator, who, he assured him, would out-talk him if he did not take care.  And Mr. Crutchley recommended to him to “wait for a sneeze,” in order to put in; so that he was almost rallied into a passion, though, being very good-natured, he made light of it, and it blew over.

In the middle of dinner I was seized with a violent laughing fit, by seeing Mr. Musgrave, who had sat quite silent, turn very solemnly to Mr. Seward and say in a reproachful tone,—­

“Seward, you said I should be fighting to talk all the talk, and here I have not spoke once.”

“Well, sir,” cried Mr. Seward, nodding at him, ’why don’t you put in?”

“Why, I lost an opportunity just now, when Mr. Cator -talked of climates; I had something I could have said about them very well.”

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After this, however, he made himself amends ; for when we left the men to their wine, he began such a violent dispute with Mr Cator, that Mr. Jenkinson and Mr. Crutchley left the field of battle, and went out to join the ladies in their walk round the grounds ; and that breaking up the party, the rest soon followed.

By the way, I happened not to walk myself, which was most ludicrously noticed by Mr. Musgrave; who, while we were at tea, suddenly crossed the circle to come up to me, and say,—­

“You did not walk, Miss Burney?”

“No, sir.”

“Very much in the right—­very much in the right, indeed!  You were studying?  Oh, very right! never lose a moment!  Such an understanding as yours it would be a shame to neglect; it ought to be cultivated every moment.”

And then he hurried back to his seat.

In the evening, when all the company was gone but our three gentlemen, Seward, Crutchley, and Musgrave, we took a walk round the grounds by moonlight — and Mr. Musgrave started with rapture at the appearance of the moon, now full, now cloudy, now clear, now obscured, every three yards we moved.

A parting shot at Mr. Crutchley.

Friday, Sept. 11.-And now, if I am not mistaken, I come to relate the conclusion of Mr. Crutchley’s most extraordinary summer career at Streatham, which place, I believe, he has now left without much intention to frequently revisit.  However, this is mere conjecture; but he really had a run of ill-luck not very inviting to a man of his cold and splenetic turn to play the same game.

When we were just going to supper, we heard a disturbance among the dogs; and Mrs. and Miss Thrale went out to see what was the matter, while Dr. Johnson and I remained quiet.  Soon returning,

“A friend! a friend!” she cried, and was followed by Mr. Crutchley.  He would not eat with us, but was chatty and in goodhumour, and as usual, when in spirits, saucily sarcastic.  For instance, it is generally half my employment in hot evenings here to rescue some or other poor buzzing idiot of an insect from the flame of a candle.  This, accordingly, I was performing with a Harry Longlegs, which, after much trial to catch, 223