of you, sirrahs.—­At night.  Lady Kerry, Mrs. Pratt, Mrs. Cadogan,[18] and I, in one coach; Lady Kerry’s son[19] and his governor, and two gentlemen, in another; maids, and misses and little master (Lord Shelburne’s[20] children, in a third, all hackneys, set out at ten o’clock this morning from Lord Shelburne’s house in Piccadilly to the Tower, and saw all the sights, lions,[21] etc.; then to Bedlam;[22] then dined at the chop-house behind the Exchange; then to Gresham College[23] (but the keeper was not at home); and concluded the night at the Puppet-show,[24] whence we came home safe at eight, and I left them.  The ladies were all in mobs[25] (how do you call it?), undrest; and it was the rainiest day that ever dripped; and I am weary; and it is now past eleven.

14.  Stay, I’ll answer some of your letter this morning in bed:  let me see; come and appear, little letter.  Here I am, says he:  and what say you to Mrs. MD this morning fresh and fasting?  Who dares think MD negligent?  I allow them a fortnight; and they give it me.  I could fill a letter in a week; but it is longer every day; and so I keep it a fortnight, and then ’tis cheaper by one half.  I have never been giddy, dear Stella, since that morning:  I have taken a whole box of pills, and kecked[26] at them every night, and drank a pint of brandy at mornings.—­Oh then, you kept Presto’s little birthday:[27] would to God I had been with you!  I forgot it, as I told you before.  REdiculous, madam?  I suppose you mean rIdiculous:  let me have no more of that; ’tis the author of the Atalantis’s[28] spelling.  I have mended it in your letter.  And can Stella read this writing without hurting her dear eyes?  O, faith, I am afraid not.  Have a care of those eyes, pray, pray, pretty Stella.—­’Tis well enough what you observe, that, if I writ better, perhaps you would not read so well, being used to this manner; ’tis an alphabet you are used to:  you know such a pot-hook makes a letter; and you know what letter, and so and so.—­I’ll swear he told me so, and that they were long letters too; but I told him it was a gasconnade of yours, etc.  I am talking of the Bishop of Clogher, how he forgot.  Turn over.[29] I had not room on t’other side to say that, so I did it on this:  I fancy that’s a good Irish blunder.  Ah, why do not you go down to Clogher, nautinautinautideargirls; I dare not say nauti without dear:  O, faith, you govern me.  But, seriously, I’m sorry you don’t go, as far as I can judge at this distance.  No, we would get you another horse; I will make Parvisol get you one.  I always doubted that horse of yours:  prythee sell him, and let it be a present to me.  My heart aches when I think you ride him.  Order Parvisol to sell him, and that you are to return me the money:  I shall never be easy until he is out of your hands.  Faith, I have dreamt five or six times of horses stumbling since I had your letter.  If he can’t sell him,