I came to Burslem yesterday afternoon with Tertia and William and a headache.
Went out this morning and saw numbers of people.
Walking to Hanley this afternoon I was struck by the orange-apple cold Christmas smell of grocers shops.
Thomas Arrowsmith called on John Beardmore for a subscription to the Burslem Wesleyan Chapel. Beardmore declined to contribute, and explained how he was losing money on all hands and had in fact had a very bad year. He went to such lengths of pessimism that Arrowsmith at last interrupted:
"If things are as bad as that Mr. Beardmore," he said, "we'll have a word of prayer," and without an instant's hesitation fell on his knees.
Beardmore began to stamp up and down the room.
"None o' that nonsense," he shouted. "None o' that nonsense. Here's half a sovereign for ye."
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