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Dec. 14, 1719, 9 at night.

T is impoffible to know by your letter whether the wine is to be bottled to-morrow, or no.

If it be, or be not, why did not you, in plain English, tell us fo?

For my part, it was by mere chance I came to fit with the ladies + this night:

And if they had not told me there was a letter from you; and your man Alexander had not gone, and come back from the deanry; and the boy here had not been fent to let Alexander know I was here; I fhould have miffed the letter out-right.

Truly I don't know who's bound to be fending for corks to stop your bottles, with a vengeance.

Make a page of your own age, and fend your man Alexander to buy corks; for Saunders already has.

gone above ten jaunts.

Mrs. Dingley and Mrs. Johnfon fay, truly they don't

care for your wife's company, though they like your

wine; but they had rather have it at their own house to drink in quiet.

However, they own it is very civil in Mr. Sheridan to make the offer; and they cannot deny it.

*This is probably dated too early..

Mrs. Dingley and Mrs. Johnfon.

I wish Alexander safe at St Catharine's to-night, with all my heart and foul, upon my word and honour: But I think it base in you to fend a poor fellow out fo

late at this time of year, when one would not turn out a dog that one valued; I appeal to your friend Mr. Connor

I would prefent my humble service to my lady Mountcafhel; but truly I thought she would have made advances to have been acquainted with me, as fhe pretended.

But now I can write no more, for you fee plainly my paper is ended.

1 P. S.

I wish, when you prated, your letter you'd dated:
Much plague it created. I fcolded and rated;

My foul is much grated; for your man 1 long waited.
I think you are fated, like a bear to be baited:

Your man is belated; the cafe I have stated;

And me you have cheated. My ftable's unflated.
Come back t' us well freighted.

I remember my late head; and wish you tranflated,
For teazing me.

2 P. S.

Mrs Dingley defires me fingly

Her fervice to prefent you; hopes that will content you;

But Johnfon madam is grown a fad dame,

For want of converfe, and cannot fend one verfe.

3 P. S.

You keep fuch a twattling with you and your bottling; But I fee the fum total, we shall ne'er have a bottle;


The long and the fhort, we shall not have a quart. I wish you would fign 't, that we have a pint. For all your colloguing, I'd be glad of a knoggin: But I doubt 'tis a fham; you won't give us a dram. "Tis of fhine a month moon-full, you won't part with a fpoonfull,

And I must be nimble, if I can fill my thimble.

You fee I won't ftop, till I come to a drop;

But I doubt the oraculum is a poor fupernaculum; Though perhaps you tell it for a grace, if we smell it.





In no very good Repair, 1725.

LET me thy properties explain

A rotten cabbin dropping rain;
Chimnies with fcorn rejecting fmoak;
Stools, tables, chairs, and bedsteds broke.
Here elements have loft their uses,
Air ripens not, nor earth produces;
In vain we make poor Sheelah * toil,
Fire will not roaft, nor water boil.
Through all the valleys, hills, and plains,
The goddess Want in triumph reigns:
And her chief officers of ftate,

Sloth, Dirt, and Theft, around her wait.

The name of an Irish fervant.



FAR from our debtors; no Dublin letters;
Not feen by our betters.


A companion with news; a great want of fhoes;
Eat lean meat, or chufe; a church without pews.
Our horfes aftray; no ftraw, oats, or hay; [play.
December in May; our boys run away,; all fervants at



'D have you to know, as fure as you 're Dean,
On Thursday my cafk of Obrien I'll drain :
If my wife is not willing, I fay he's a quean;
And my right to the cellar, egad, I'll maintain
As bravely as any that fought at Dunblain :
Go tell her it over and over again.

I hope, as I ride to the town, it won't rain;
For, fhould it, I fear it will cool my hot brain,
Entirely extinguish my poetic vein ;

And then I should be as ftupid as Kain,


Who preach'd on three heads, though he mention'd but

Now Wardel's in hafte, and begins to complain;
Your most humble fervant, Dear Sir, I remain,

Get Helfham, Walmsley, Delany,
And fome Grattans, if there be any
Take care you do not bid too many.

T. S-N.

* i. e. in Dublin, for they were country-clergy.




'H E verfes you fent on the bottling your wine Were, in every one's judgement, exceedingly fine; And I must confefs, as a dean and divine,

I think you infpir'd by the Mufes all nine.

I nicely examin'd them every line,

And the worst of them all like a barn-door did fhine.
Oh, that Jove would give me fuch a talent as thine !
With Delany or Dan I would scorn to combine.
I know they have many a wicked defign;
And, give Satan his due, Dan begins to refine.
However, I wish, honest comrade of mine,

You would really on Thursday leave St. Catharine*,
Where I hear you are cramm'd every day like a fwine;
With me you'll no more have a ftomach to dine,
Nor after your vittles lie fleeping supine :
So I wish you were toothlefs, like lord Mafferine.
But, were you as wicked as lewd Aretine,

I wish you would tell me which way you incline.
If, when you return, your road you don't line,
On Thursday I'll pay my refpects at your shrine,
Wherever you bend, wherever you twine,
In fquare, or in oppofite circle, or trine.

Your beef will on Thursday be salter than brine:
I hope you have fwill'd, with new milk from the kine,
As much as the Liffee 's outdone by the Rhine;

The feat of lady Mountcafhel, near Dublin.


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