‘I am pestered, plagued, teazed, tormented to death. I believe all the cats in Christendom are assembled in Oxfordshire. I am obliged to hire a clerk to pay the people, and the village where I live, is become a constant fair. A fellow has set up the sign of the three Blind Kittens, and has the impudence to tell the neighbours, that if my whims and my money only hold out for one twelve-month, he shall not care a fig for the king. I thought to prevent this inundation, by buying up all the old cats, and secluding them in convents and monasteries of my own: but the value of the breeders is increased to such a degree, that I do not believe my whole fortune is capable of the purchase.—Besides, I am made an ass of. A rascal, who is a known sharper in these parts, hearing of the aversion I had to cruelty, bought an old, one-eyed horse, that was going to the dogs, for five shillings. Then taking a hammer in his hand, watched an opportunity of finding me alone, and addressed me in the following manner: “Look you, master, I know that you don’t love to see any dumb creature abused, and so, if you don’t give me ten pounds, why I shall scoop out this old rip’s odd eye, with the sharp end of this here hammer, now, before your face.” Aye, and the villain would have done it too, if I had not instantly complied: but what was worse, the abominable scoundrel had the audacity to tell me, when I wanted him to deliver the horse first, for fear he should extort a farther sum from me, that he had more honour than to break his word. A whelp of a boy had yesterday caught a young hedgehog, and perceiving me, threw it into the water to make it extend its legs; then with the rough side of a knotty stick, sawed upon them till the creature cried like a child; and when I ordered him to desist, told me he would not, till I had given him six-pence. There is something worse than all this. The avaricious rascals, when they can find nothing that they think will excite my pity, disable the first animal which is not dignified with the title of Christian; and then bring it to me as an object worthy of commiseration; so that in fact, instead of protecting, I destroy. The women have entertained a notion that I hate two-legged animals: and one of them called after me the other day, to tell me I was an old rogue, and that I had better give my money to the poor, than keep a parcel of dogs and cats that eat up the village. I perceive it is in vain to attempt carrying on the scheme much longer, and then my poor invalids will be worse off than they were before.’ This account was probably intended by the author as an indirect satire upon his friend Ritson’s arguments on the inhumanity of eating animal food.