6.  An ugly rainy day.  I was to visit Mrs. Barton, then called at Mrs. Vanhomrigh’s, where Sir Andrew Fountaine and the rain kept me to dinner; and there did I loiter all the afternoon, like a fool, out of perfect laziness, and the weather not permitting me to walk:  but I’ll do so no more.  Are your waters at Wexford good in this rain?  I long to hear how you are established there, how and whom you visit, what is your lodging, what are your entertainments.  You are got far southwards; but I think you must eat no fruit while you drink the waters.  I ate some Kentish cherries t’other day, and I repent it already; I have felt my head a little disordered.  We had not a hot day all June, or since, which I reckon a mighty happiness.  Have you left a direction with Reading for Wexford?  I will, as I said, direct this to Curry’s, and the next to Reading; or suppose I send this at a venture straight to Wexford?  It would vex me to have it miscarry.  I had a letter to-night from Parvisol, that White has paid me most of my remaining money; and another from Joe, that they have had their election at Trim, but not a word of who is chosen portreeve.[9] Poor Joe is full of complaints, says he has enemies, and fears he will never get his two hundred pounds; and I fear so too, although I have done what I could.—­I’ll answer your letter when I think fit, when saucy Presto thinks fit, sirrahs.  I am not at leisure yet; when I have nothing to do, perhaps I may vouchsafe.—­O Lord, the two Wexford ladies; I’ll go dream of you both.

7.  It was the dismallest rainy day I ever saw:  I went to the Secretary in the morning, and he was gone to Windsor.  Then it began raining, and I struck in to Mrs. Vanhomrigh’s, and dined, and stayed till night very dull and insipid.  I hate this town in summer; I’ll leave it for a while, if I can have time.

8.  I have a fellow of your town, one Tisdall,[10] lodges in the same house with me.  Patrick told me Squire Tisdall and his lady lodged here.  I pretended I never heard of him; but I knew his ugly face, and saw him at church in the next pew to me, and he often looked for a bow, but it would not do.  I think he lives in Capel Street, and has an ugly fine wife in a fine coach.  Dr. Freind and I dined in the City by invitation, and I drank punch, very good, but it makes me hot.  People here are troubled with agues by this continuance of wet, cold weather; but I am glad to find the season so temperate.  I was this evening to see Will Congreve, who is a very agreeable companion.

9.  I was to-day in the City, and dined with Mr. Stratford, who tells me Sir Alexander Cairnes makes difficulties about paying my bill; so that I cannot give order yet to Parvisol to deliver up the bond to Dr. Raymond.  To-morrow I shall have a positive answer:  that Cairnes is a shuffling scoundrel; and several merchants have told me so:  what can one expect from a Scot and a fanatic?  I was at Bateman’s the bookseller’s, to