Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
New Moon
An artist came in the pub tonight touting for business and did me in ink. A good likeness. I 'm recognisable. Samuel saw it and gasped: "Ah, Daddy". So it can't be bad. I gave the artist £4. No Peter Paul Rubens by any means. Stuck tonight. Liz cried off sick and at 9 I went across for Audrey to assist. It was busy later on. Little Clementine came below for ten minutes to meet the customers and slept throughout. Ally didn't want the baby stinking of cigarette fumes and stale ale.
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