She fell in the pond yesterday, when she was looking at herself in it,
which she is always doing. She nearly strangled, and said it was most
uncomfortable. This made her sorry for the creatures which live in
there, which she calls fish, for she continues to fasten names on to
things that don’t need them and don’t come when they are called by
them, which is a matter of no consequence to her, as she is such a
numskull anyway; so she got a lot of them out and brought them in last
night and put them in my bed to keep warm, but I have noticed them now
and then all day, and I don’t see that they are any happier there than
they were before, only quieter. When night comes I shall throw them
out-doors. I will not sleep with them again, for I find them clammy and
unpleasant to lie among when a person hasn’t anything on.