• Dear Dairy,

    Let me begin this long and most-likely boring and uninteresting ranting by making a statement. I am rather alarmed, offended, and a little hurt by some of the things that have been said and done to me. Oh yes, it starts with the tablecloth. It's a nice tablecloth, it has two lovely, bold colors. It happens to be red and black and it HAPPENS that I took time from my busy, busy life to make this - most beautiful - tablecloth all by myself. I fashioned it in a sensible, checkered pattern with thread and patches of material.
    Yes, yes alright. I will admit that the materials are not the same, and that two squares the same size can not be found. Yes, I will admit that my sewing skills are a bit faltering, what with my nerves (of course you know all about my nerves) and bits of the table can be seen where I have stitched the patches together-- BUT IT'S ALL BESIDES THE POINT.
    WHY would my friends mock and insult me so? Do they not know how much time and effort I put into this? I am a busy man, I do not have time for sewing. It was to be a gift. A gift for brother. I know how much he likes to hide under that wretched table of his, and what a hiding place indeed without a tablecloth. What could be a more perfect reason to fashion together a tablecloth. Poor, poor brother he did not cope well with mother's death, oh if she were alive she would have made him a much better one to be sure!
    But Oh, if had only the insults and mockings stopped there! No, no it was NOT enough, mind you, that they had to ask me why on Earth I would make such an " ugly thing " (ARRRGH!) but they had MORE to say, yes.
    I shall tell you exactly what they said. What they said was it was inappropriate.
    INAPPROPRIATE to give a gift to my dearest brother! Oh, dear did that ever make me angry, you would not believe how my nerves acted! I let them have it. 'Who are you all to say," this is what I said, "That Leonardo will not love it?!" Yes, yes I said this and I walked right up to his table and set it nicely.
    You will not believe what happened after this. It makes me SO ANGRY even recalling it now, but I must tell you, dearest dairy of mine, just how rude people can be. It was that hag, Widow Shlettham who seemed ( most extraordinarily!) offended by my gift and she took the tablecloth - Leo's tablecloth- and bid me to take it and leave the room at once.
    I will tell you that I did no such thing! To think I am being ordered in my own home! You know the state of my nerves, I could bare this no longer. So presently I thrust UP the queer wretched table of my brother so that I might find him and I cried out, "Then why not ASK Leonardo and see if he wants it?!"
    What else was there to do? Brother said nothing, he seemed to be very unaware of what was happening. Or perhaps I frightened him, poor lad. He is always so frightened! Oh how brother loved to hide under the table, it was his favorite game! I daresay he will not come out of hiding again! Ah, but the crowd did not like what I had done, not even one smallest bit.
    No, no I'm afraid they did not. At this time, I was seized by my arms by Lord Mason and his father, they proceeded to drag me away! I was furious. I was a furious and most mad, I had every right in the world to be! In my rage I believe I kicked them both and I may have bitten Lord Mason once or twice, just before two other brutes seized my legs!
    What nonsense is this? Such behavior! Such insult, what ever have I done to deserve such treatment!
    I thrashed about for a long, long while. I can not recall how long before I had finally done it, I had lost my temper and they called for one of those belted jackets - and oh, how I HATE that ghastly jacket! But I must admit at this point, dairy I had become very frightened. I was angry but my fit must have been so great they thought me mad! Me? Mad indeed! THEY should be the ones all dressed in jackets, good and tight, to be sure!
    Though I thought it better to apologize at the least for the biting, and I stopped to struggle, for they were already getting me into the horrid jacket. 'Good Mason', I said in a voice most kind, 'I am truly sorry for biting you it was most uncivil, do forgive me.' He would not even look at me, such manners! I tried speaking to the Widow next, 'You must forgive me as well, madame for I lost my temper...' She just stared at me, she would not speak, it was as though I have said something frightening.
    No one would speak to me, nothing I said seemed to help any. 'This has all gone so very far out of hand!' I cried, for they were dragging me out now, 'I have done nothing wrong, I simply wished to give Leo a present!' They seemed to be as discontent as ever! 'Please,' I went on, 'The boy gets so frightened, he has nerves like mine, how can he hide with the whole town coming in and staring at him? It's a wonder he wont come out!' I seemed to have upset people, though I looked from face to face pleadingly wishing they would listen.
    Alas! Nothing I said could convince them I was a sane, polite man. Horrid nerves, yes but polite!
    Here I remain, they did take the jacket off. They were kind enough to let me have you back, diary. I am afraid they wont let me out of this room, however many times I try to explain. No matter. I am most content now. For you see, I have written to brother and surely he can clear up this folly. How silly everyone will feel once they realize what they've done. Yes, I do feel a bit smug.
    I just overheard two gentlemen outside talking, they said something most hilarious! Oh, I have not laughed so hard in my entire life! Oh I must write it down so I might tell brother.
    One was good enough to ask what was wrong with me, and the other replied, 'He refused and still refuses to accept his brother's death. He refused to bury him for weeks on end, the smell was terrible. Finally his friends and neighbors came to tell him it was time to let go-- But when they got there they found him completely naked. He had removed his clothes to put together what he called a "gift" for his brother. He draped it over his brother's coffin, people tried to help him but he wouldn't have it. He opened his brother's coffin, and tried to speak to him, even. When they tried to get him away from it he struggled- bit somebody's finger clean off.' The other gentlemen then asked, 'How long as he been here?...' The reply was a quiet mumble but I heard clearly, 'Tomorrow makes it a decade. He writes the same letter to his brother everyday, every night he chronicles the same event in his dairy. It's extraordinary to watch him write, the old words may be there but he does not see them. He simply writes over them.'
    How mistaken and foolish some people can be!