Friday; and then I expect some answer to this business, which must either be
soon done, or begun again; and then the Duke of Ormond and his people will
interfere for their honour, and do nothing. I came home at six, and spent my
time in my chamber, without going to the Coffee-house, which I grow weary of;
and I studied at leisure, writ not above forty lines, some inventions of my
own, and some hints, and read not at all, and this because I would take care
of Presto, for fear little MD should be angry.

2. I took my four pills last night, and they lay an hour in my throat, and so
they will do to-night. I suppose I could swallow four affronts as easily. I
dined with Dr. Cockburn to-day, and came home at seven; but Mr. Ford has been
with me till just now, and it is near eleven. I have had no giddiness to-day.
Mr. Dopping[3] I have seen; and he tells me coldly, my "Shower" is liked well
enough; there's your Irish judgment! I writ this post to the Bishop of
Clogher. It is now just a fortnight since I heard from you. I must have you
write once a fortnight, and then I will allow for wind and weather. How goes
ombre? Does Mrs. Walls[4] win constantly, as she used to do? And Mrs.
Stoyte;[5] I have not thought of her this long time: how does she? I find we
have a cargo of Irish coming for London: I am sorry for it; but I never go
near them. And Tighe is landed; but Mrs. Wesley,[6] they say, is going home
to her husband, like a fool. Well, little monkeys mine, I must go write; and
so goodnight.

3. I ought to read these letters I write, after I have done; for, looking
over thus much, I found two or three literal mistakes, which should not be
when the hand is so bad. But I hope it does not puzzle little Dingley to
read, for I think I mend: but methinks, when I write plain, I do not know
how, but we are not alone, all the world can see us. A bad scrawl is so snug,
it looks like a PMD.[7] We have scurvy Tatlers of late: so pray do not
suspect me. I have one or two hints I design to send him, and never any more: