2 July 1787 – 8 July 1787

What a stare was drawn from our new equerry by Major Price’s gravely asking Mrs. Schwellenberg, after the health of her frogs? She answered they were very well, and the major said, “You must know, Colonel Gwynn, Mrs. Schwellenberg keeps a pair of frogs.” “Of frogs?—pray what do they feed upon?” “Flies, sir,” she answered. “And pray, ma’am, what food have they in winter?” “Nothing other.” The stare was now still wider. “But I can make them croak when I will,” she added, “when I only go so to my snuff-box, knock, knock, knock, they croak all what I please." “Very pretty, indeed!” exclaimed Colonel Goldsworthy. “I thought to have some spawn,” she continued; “but then Maria Carlton, what you call Lady Doncaster, came and frightened them; I was never so angry!” “I am sorry for that,” cried the major, very seriously, “for else I should have begged a pair.” “So you meant, ma’am, to have had a breed of them,” cried Colonel Goldsworthy; “a breed of young frogs? Vastly clever, indeed!” Then followed a formal enumeration of their virtues and endearing little qualities, which made all laugh except the new equerry, who sat in perfect amaze. Then, suddenly, she stopped short, and called out, “There! now I have told you all this, you might tell something to me. I have talked enoff; now you might amuse me.”