nor know anything of being so; nor is there anything in the story; and that’s enough.  It was not Roper[39] sent that news:  Roper is my humble slave.—­Yes, I heard of your resolves, and that Burton was embroiled.  Stratford spoke to me in his behalf; but I said I hated the rascal.  Poor Catherine gone to Wales?  But she will come back again, I hope.  I would see her in my journey, if she were near the road; and bring her over.  Joe[40] is a fool; that sort of business is not at all in my way, pray put him off it.  People laugh when I mention it.  Bed ee paadon, Maram; I’m drad oo rike ee aplon:[41] no harm, I hope.  And so. . .  DD wonders she has not a letter at the day; oo’ll have it soon. . . .  The D——­ he is! married to that vengeance!  Men are not to be believed.  I don’t think her a fool.  Who would have her?  Dilly will be governed like an ass; and she will govern like a lion.  Is not that true, Ppt?  Why, Sterne told me he left you at ombre with Leigh; and yet you never saw him.  I know nothing of his wife being here:  it may cost her a c—–­[42] (I don’t care to write that word plain).  He is a little in doubt about buying his commission.  Yes, I will bring oo over all the little papers I can think on.  I thought I sent you, by Leigh, all that were good at that time.  The author of the Sea Eclogues sent books to the Society yesterday, and we gave him guineas apiece; and, maybe, will do further from him (for him, I mean).  So the Bishop of Clogher, and lady, were your guests for a night or two.  Why, Ppt, you are grown a great gamester and company keeper.  I did say to myself, when I read those names, just what you guess; and you clear up the matter wonderfully.  You may converse with those two nymphs if you please, but the ----- take me if ever I do.  Iss, fais, it is delightful to hear that Ppt is every way Ppt now, in health, and looks, and all.  Pray God keep her so, many, many, many years.  I doubt the session will not be over till the end of April; however, I shall not wait for it, if the Ministry will let me go sooner.  I wish I were just now in my garden at Laracor.  I would set out for Dublin early on Monday, and bring you an account of my young trees, which you are better acquainted with than the Ministry, and so am I. Oh, now you have got Number 41, have you so?  Why, perhaps, I forgot, and kept it to next post in my pocket:  I have done such tricks.  My cold is better, but not gone.  I want air and riding.  Hold ee tongue, oo Ppt, about colds at Moor Park! the case is quite different.  I will do what you desire me for Tisdall, when I next see Lord Anglesea.  Pray give him my service.  The weather is warm these three or four days, and rainy.  I am to dine to-day with Lewis and Darteneuf at Somers’s,[43] the Clerk of the Kitchen at Court.  Darteneuf loves good bits and good sups.  Good mollows richar sollohs.—­At night.  I dined, as I said; and it cost me a shilling for a chair.  It has rained all day, and is very warm.  Lady Masham’s young son, my nephew, is very ill; and she is out of mind[44] with grief.  I pity her mightily.  I am got home early, and going to write to the Bishop of Clogher, but have no politics to send him.  Nite my own two deelest saucy d[ear] ones.