Patty has been to Stamford, and brought me a letter from Ned Drury,
who came from Lincoln to the mayor's feast on Thursday. It revives
old recollections. Poor fellow: he is an odd one, but still my
recollections are inclined in his favour. What a long way to come to
the mayor's feast! I would not go one mile after it to hear the din
of knives and forks, and to see a throng of blank faces about me,
chattering and stuffing, "that boast no more expression than a
muffin."