At home looking over my papers and books and house as to the fitting of it to my mind till two in the afternoon. Some time I spent this morning beginning to teach my wife some skill in music, and found her apt beyond imagination.
To the Privy Seal, where great store of work to-day. Colonel Scroope is this day excepted out of the Act of Indemnity, which has been now long in coming out, but it is expected to-morrow. I carried home 80l. from the Privy Seal, by coach, and at night spent a little more time with my wife about her music with great content.
This day I heard my poor mother had these two days been very ill, and I fear she will not last long.
To bed, a little troubled that I fear my boy Will is a thief and has stole some money of mine, particularly a letter that Mr. Jenkins did leave the last week with me with half a crown in it to send to his son.
My books fit my mind,
a music beyond imagination.
But a thief stole a letter—
the last W—
to send to his son.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Tuesday 28 August 1660.
2 Replies to “W-less”
Wild. Wistful. Wise.