It has been quite a busy week, Dear Journal, as you well know, and Dear Lord, when did I start talking to my journal as though it were another person? I am so tired of living alone. This sloop is not large, though far more than ample for one, and I have walked every inch of it over and over again, yes, and banged my head on the low beams over and over again as well, just trying to move. I once saw a lion in a cage in Yorke; I have been feeling like that lion, pacing back and forth, up and down, trying to find some part of the sloop I’ve never seen before, and of course failing.
But in between all of that it has been a busy week, filled with the building of skychairs and diagrams of congeries and much thinking, and it has borne much fruit. During the days I was able to construct three more of my two-man sky-chairs, ugly but effective, for a total of five! Leaving one here for me, that means that eight men can quickly come and go from Le Blaireau at a time; and that means that we were at last able to organize a hunting party for Old Man Blaireau