Breakfasted with Davies at seven. Walked to Jackson’s house in Grosvenor Street; a very neat establishment for a boxer. Were off in our chaise at eight. The immense crowds of carriages, pedestrians, &c. all along the road — the respect paid to Jackson everywhere, highly comical. He sung some flash songs on the way, and I contrived to muster up one or two myself, much to Scrope Davies’s surprise and diversion.

[The men were on their way to see a boxing match]