me:  the glass to read was four shillings, the spectacles two.  And have you had your chocolate?  Leigh says he sent the petticoat by one Mr. Spencer.  Pray have you no further commissions for me?  I paid the glass-man but last night, and he would have made me a present of the microscope worth thirty shillings, and would have sent it home along with me; I thought the deuce was in the man:  he said I could do him more service than that was worth, etc.  I refused his present, but promised him all service I could do him; and so now I am obliged in honour to recommend him to everybody.—­At night.  I went to Mr. Harley’s levee; he came and asked me what I had to do there, and bid me come and dine with him on a family dinner; which I did, and it was the first time I ever saw his lady[58] and daughter;[59] at five my Lord Keeper[60] came in:  I told Mr. Harley, he had formerly presented me to Sir Simon Harcourt, but now must to my Lord Keeper; so he laughed, etc.

23.  Morning.  This letter goes to-night without fail; I hope there is none from you yet at the Coffee-house; I will send and see by and by, and let you know, and so and so.  Patrick goes to see for a letter:  what will you lay, is there one from MD or no?  No, I say; done for sixpence.  Why has the Dean never once written to me?  I won sixpence; I won sixpence; there is not one letter to Presto.  Good-morrow, dear sirrahs:  Stratford and I dine to-day with Lord Mountjoy.  God Almighty preserve and bless you; farewell, etc.

I have been dining at Lord Mountjoy’s; and am come to study; our news from Spain this post takes off some of our fears.  The Parliament is prorogued to-day, or adjourned rather till after the holidays.  Bank Stock is 105, so I may get 12 shillings for my bargain already.  Patrick, the puppy, is abroad, and how shall I send this letter?  Good-night, little dears both, and be happy; and remember your poor Presto, that wants you sadly, as hope saved.  Let me go study, naughty girls, and don’t keep me at the bottom of the paper.  O, faith, if you knew what lies on my hands constantly, you would wonder to see how I could write such long letters; but we’ll talk of that some other time.  Good-night again, and God bless dear MD with His best blessings, yes, yes, and Dingley and Stella and me too, etc.

Ask the Bishop of Clogher about the pun I sent him of Lord Stawel’s brother;[61] it will be a pure bite.  This letter has 199 lines in it, beside all postscripts; I had a curiosity to reckon.

There is a long letter for you.

It is longer than a sermon, faith.

I had another letter from Mrs. Fenton, who says you were with her; I hope you did not go on purpose.  I will answer her letter soon; it is about some money in Lady Giffard’s hands.

They say you have had eight packets due to you; so pray, madams, do not blame
Presto, but the wind.

My humble service to Mrs. Walls and Mrs. Stoyte; I missed the former a good while.