Journal,
I have had, at this point, several long discussions with Mr. Footman about the experiment and am feeling a growing confidence in his abilities. I'd always thought he was a bit hap-hazard, but, for a change, he seems completely competent. I am sure the experiment will yield results.
I survived another Christmas and, even better, my brother did not summon me to London for the usual festivities. I am, to say the least, overjoyed. My relief at the holiday being over is palpable. I can almost taste the promise of a distant spring on the ear. Even my dreams have improved.
In fact, my mood was so jolly today that I baked some cookies (well...they were supposed to be cookies, really what they were were hard, round disks of gingerbread baked so dark they are nearly black) and went to deliver them around town. Of course I went by the Mayor's forge to leave some for him fully expecting him to be out on duty.
What I found there is distressing. The whole place looked as though it had been turned over and there was no sign of the Mayor. It seems a lot of people have gone missing recently, though some have been found.
I cannot get the image of the forge gone cold out of my head, it's haunting me like a sore tooth.
Perhaps, if it has not been put to rights in a few days, I shall go and clean it up. Perhaps Mr. Tenk has just gone on a vacation and someone took advantage of his absence. But even if that is not the case, I should dearly hate to return home to discover my hearth in such a state.
~S.MacB.
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