crossed him in all his Whig talk, and made him often come over to me. I know
he makes court to the new men, although he affects to talk like a Whig. I had
a letter to-day from the Bishop of Clogher; but I writ to him lately, that I
would obey his commands to the Duke of Ormond. He says I bid him read the
London "Shaver," and that you both swore it was "Shaver," and not "Shower."[6]
You all lie, and you are puppies, and can't read Presto's hand. The Bishop is
out entirely in his conjectures of my share in the Tatlers.--I have other
things to mind, and of much greater importance;[7] else I have little to do to
be acquainted with a new Ministry, who consider me a little more than Irish
bishops do.

29. Now for your saucy, good dear letter: let me see, what does it say? come
then. I dined to-day with Ford, and went home early; he debauched[8] me to
his chamber again with a bottle of wine till twelve: so good-night. I cannot
write an answer now, you rogues.

30. To-day I have been visiting, which I had long neglected; and I dined with
Mrs. Barton alone; and sauntered at the Coffee-house till past eight, and have
been busy till eleven, and now I'll answer your letter, saucebox. Well, let
me see now again. My wax candle's almost out, but however I'll begin. Well
then, do not be so tedious, Mr. Presto; what can you say to MD's letter? Make
haste, have done with your preambles--Why, I say I am glad you are so often
abroad; your mother thinks it is want of exercise hurts you, and so do I.
(She called here to-night, but I was not within, that's by the bye.) Sure you
do not deceive me, Stella, when you say you are in better health than you were
these three weeks; for Dr. Raymond told me yesterday, that Smyth of the Blind
Quay had been telling Mr. Leigh that he left you extremely ill; and in short,
spoke so, that he almost put poor Leigh into tears, and would have made me run
distracted; though your letter is dated the 11th instant, and I saw Smyth in
the city above a fortnight ago, as I passed by in a coach. Pray, pray, don't