“Came home—my head aches—plenty of news, but too tiresome to set down. I have neither read, nor written, nor thought, but led a purely animal life all day. I mean to try to write a page or two before I go to bed. But, as Squire Sullen says, ‘My head aches consumedly: Scrub, bring me a dram!’ Drank some Imola wine, and some punch.
