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FROM MR. MOTTE.

HONOURED SIR,

LONDON, OCT. 4, 1735.

MRS. Launcelot, who dined with me to day, and desired me to present her humble service, showed me part of a letter from you, which gave me so much concern, that I would not let a post slip without writing to you upon the subject of it. You are pleased to express an apprehension, that Mrs. Fenton's money has not been regularly paid, because you have not heard from me for above a twelvemonth. I hope I have accounted to your satisfaction for my silence in a letter which Mrs. Hyde delivered to you since the date of yours to Mrs. Launcelot and as to Mrs. Fenton's annuity, I have punctually paid it, and shall continue to do so until I receive your commands to the contrary. The next payment will be called for a few days after the first of November, and unless you forbid it before that time, I shall pay it. Mr. Fenton, her son, who receives it, is a man of worth and honour, and I am persuaded will return me the money, should it be paid him from any other quarter. I am surprised to find by Mrs. Hyde that my last, which was written the latter end of July, had so slow a passage, as not to come to your hand until the 13th of September.

I have been so particular (I fear even to tediousness) in that letter, that I have nothing to add, but a repetition of the sincere profession I there made, that I am, with all possible gratitude, truth, and

sincerity,

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MR. Faulkner in printing those volumes did what I much disliked, and yet what was not in my power to hinder; and all my friends pressed him to print them, and gave him what manuscript copies they had occasionally gotten from me; my desire was that those works should have been printed in London, by an agreement between those who had a right to them. I am, sir, with great truth, your most humble and affectionate servant,

J. SWIFT.

TO MRS. WHITEWAY.

Those parts of the letter distinguished by inverted commas (" ") were written by Dr. Sheridan.

MADAM,

NOV. 8, 1735.

NOVEMBER 3, to Dunshallan, twelve long miles, very weary; November 4, to Kells, sixteen miles, ten times wearier; the 5th, to Crosskeys, seventeen long

miles,

miles, fifty times wearier; the 6th, to Cavan, five miles, weariest of all: Yet I baited every day, and dined where I lay; and this very day I am weary, and my shin bad, yet I never looked on it. I have been now the third day at Cavan, the doctor's Canaan, the dirtiest place I ever saw, with the worst wife and daughter, and the most cursed sluts and servants on this side Scotland. Let the doctor do his part. "Not quite so bad, I assure you, although his teal "was spoiled in the roasting: and I can assure you "that the dirt of our streets is not quite over his "shoes, so that he can walk dry. If he would "wear golashes, as I do, he would have no cause of "complaint. As for my wife and daughter, I have "nothing to say to them, and therefore nothing to "answer for them. I hope when the weather "mends, that every thing will be better, except "the two before mentioned. Now the dean is to

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proceed." In short, but not literally in short, I got hither, not safe and sound, but safe and sore. Looking in my equipage I saw a great packet that weighed a pound: I thought it was iron but found it Spanish liquorice, enough to serve this whole county who had coughs for nine years. My beast told me it was you forced him to put it all up. Pray go sometimes to the deanery, and see how the world goes there. The doctor is a philosopher above all economy, like philosopher Webber. I am drawing him into a little cleanliness about his house. The cook roasted this day a fine teal to a cinder; for the wife and daughter said, they did not know but I loved it well roasted. The doctor, since his last illness, complains that he has a straitness in his breast, and a difficulty in breathing. Pray give him

your

your advice, and I will write to your brother Helsham this post for his. Write me no news of the club, and get one of them to frank your letters, that they may be worth reading. "Dear madam, I beg you 66 may rather think me like the devil, or my wife, "than Webber. I do assure you that my house, and "all about it, is clean in potentia. If you do not "understand so much logick, Mr. Harrison * will " tell you; but I suppose you ignorant of nothing "but doing any thing wrong. Be pleased to send "me one of your fattest pigeons in a post letter, " and I will send you in return a fat goose, under "cover to one of the club. The dean may say "what he pleases of my ay con O my; but I as"sure you I have this moment in my house, a

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quarter of fat beef, a fat sheep, two mallards, a "duck, and a teal, beside some fowl in squadrons. "I wish you were here. Ask the dean if I have not "fine ale, table drink, good wine, and a new pair "of tables. Now hear the dean." It grows dark, and I cannot read one syllable of what the doctor last writ; but conclude all to be a parcel of lies. How are eldest master and miss? with your clerk and schoolboy? So God bless you all. If the doctor has any thing more to say, let him conclude, as I do, with assurance that I am ever, with great affection, yours, &c.

Read as you can, for I believe I have made forty mistakes. Direct for me at doctor Sheridan's in Cavan; but let a clubman frank it, as I do this. Mr. Rochfort is my franker: yours may be general or some other (great beast of a) hero. My two

Mrs. Whiteway's eldest son.

puppies

puppies have, in the whole journey, overpuppied their puppyships. Most abominable bad firing; nothing but wet turf. "The devil a lie I writ, "nor will I write to the end of my life. May all "happiness attend you and your family. I am, with "all good wishes and affection, your most obedient "humble servant,

"THOMAS SHERIDAN.

"You were plaguy saucy, who did not like my "nuts: I do assure you my dog Lampey cracks "them; the dean is my witness."

SIR,

FROM MRS. WHITEWAY.

NOV. 8, 1735.

I KNOW the moment you took this letter into your hand what you said, which was pox on all Irish writers, and Irish letters. It is very little trouble I am going to give you, only be pleased to answer the following questions. How does your leg do? How is your head? How is your stomach? How many days were you on the road? How did you lie? How does Dr. Sheridan? How do you like Cavan? And how do all the good victuals Dr. Sheridan promised you turn out? And now, sir, I beg you will be pleased to suppose, that I began

*

* A cant expression, much used in those times upon all occasions, and here ridiculed.

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