my Lady to let her maid, Mrs. Anne, to ride
all the way on horseback, and she rides exceeding well; and so I called
her my clerk, that she went to wait upon me. I met two little schoolboys
going with pitchers of ale to their schoolmaster to break up against
Easter, and I did drink of some of one of them and give him two pence.
By and by we come to two little girls keeping cows, and I saw one of
them very pretty, so I had a mind to make her ask my blessing, and
telling her that I was her godfather, she asked me innocently whether I
was not Ned Wooding, and I said that I was, so she kneeled down and very
simply called, "Pray, godfather, pray to God to bless me," which made
us very merry, and I gave her twopence. In several places, I asked women
whether they would sell me their children, but they denied me all, but
said they would give me one to keep for them, if I would. Mrs. Anne and
I rode under the man that hangs upon Shooter's Hill,

[Shooter's Hill, Kent, between the eighth and ninth milestones on
the Dover road. It was long a notorious haunt of highwaymen. The
custom was to leave the bodies of criminals hanging until the bones
fell to the ground.]

and a filthy sight it was to see how his flesh is shrunk to his bones.
So home and I found all well, and a deal of work done since I went. I
sent to see how my wife do, who is well, and my brother John come from
Cambridge. To Sir W. Batten's and there supped, and very merry with the
young ladles. So to bed very sleepy for last night's work, concluding
that it is the pleasantest journey in all respects that ever I had in my
life.

12th. Up among my workmen, and about 7 o'clock comes my wife to see me
and my brother John with her, who I am glad to see, but I sent them away
because of going to the office, and there dined with Sir W. Batten,
all fish dinner, it being Good Friday. Then home and looking over my
workmen, and then into the City and saw in what forwardness all things
are for the Coronacion, which will be very magnificent. Then back again
home and to my chamber, to set down in my diary all my late journey,
which I do with great pleasure; and while I am now writing comes one
with a tickett to invite me to Captain Robert Blake's buriall, for whose
death I am very sorry, and do much wonder at it, he being a little while
since a very likely man to live as any I knew. Since my going out of
town, there is one Alexander Rosse taken and sent to the