4th November 1786

Mist. On the way to Buxton I noted several urchins engaged in the ancient practice of cat throwing.( I recall fondly from my youth) Amongst them was the son of my manservant Goiter. In the town I found that damnable rogue Swelt the Magistrate fixing a notice to the board in the market place looking as always as if he had licked piss off a nettle.

 The notice read

“Several complaints have been made to the magistrates that apprentices and others have been playing at a number of games unlawful. The Magistrates are determined to prosecute with the utmost severity all persons playing at cards, dice, Billiards, Skittles, Cock fighting, Cat throwing and he-who-could-expectorate- the -furthest which practices are deleterious to public health and morals of the populace”

I retired to the Goat and Quaker where I heard the following curious tale gleaned from a newspaper. It seems that there was a house of a Greek in Constantinople which had been set on fire. By the assistance of a few Janissaries, he had nearly saved all his goods, but by some fatal chance, one of the children lying in a cradle had been forgotten. No possibility was left of re-entering the house and the despairing father had given up the child as lost. At the very instant a large mastiff the property of the Greek was seen coming out of the fire holding the baby in his mouth. Vain were the attempts to make the dog stop. The sagacious hound ran through the crowd and did not stop until he reached the home of a friend; he dropped the bundle at the door. The gratitude of the father to his precious servant cannot be experienced but the Greek killed the mastiff and had the animal dressed and served at a meal to solemnize the child’s escape. So much for Greeks bearing gifts