MR. PIPS HIS DIARY.
Lout I did ever ſee, even in Hampſhire. His politeneſs even droller than his Rudeneſs, and his Ploughboy Courteſy of kiſſing his Hand as comical as could be. But I know not well whether I do more prefer his Cocknies or his Clowns; for methinks I have ſeen him do a Snob as well as a Clodpole, and he is very good in both, whether a ruftical Booby or a Whipperſnapper Spark; and do uſe V for W, and miſuſe or drop his H, and talk the Flam and Cant of the Town mighty natural. But to think how we Engliſh People do take Delight in everything that is ridiculous; and how I have ſeen a Theatre ringing with Merriment at the Sight of Touchstone in a Paper Cap and Apron, with a Baker's Tray, and a Bell, crying "Muffins!" or eating with his Mouth full; or even putting his Arms a-Kimbo, or pulling his Hat over his Eyes, and ſome of the Audience, and myſelf too, in Fits almoſt with Laughter. Methinks that Foreigners are wrong to ſuppoſe that we are a melancholy People, and would give up this Notion if they could ſee us at a broad Farce, and how eaſily we are pleaſed, and what Straws will tickle us almoſt to Death. Home, my Sides aching by Reaſon of Touchstone's Drolleries, and truly he do make a mighty excellent roguiſh Buffoon. So to Bed mimicking Touchstone his Voice to my Wife, which did divert her mightily.
