ricks ten
ace: for, suppose you play your Manilio--Oh, silly, how I prate, and
can't get away from this MD in a morning! Go, get you gone, dear naughty
girls, and let me rise. There, Patrick locked up my ink again the third
time last night: the rogue gets the better of me; but I will rise
in spite of you, sirrahs.--At night. Lady Kerry, Mrs. Pratt, Mrs.
Cadogan,(18) and I, in one coach; Lady Kerry's son(19) and his governor,
and two gentlemen, in another; maids, and misses and little master
(Lord Shelburne's(20) children, in a third, all hackneys, set out at ten
o'clock this morning from Lord Shelburne's house in Piccadilly to the
Tower, and saw all the sights, lions,(21) etc.; then to Bedlam;(22) then
dined at the chop-house behind the Exchange; then to Gresham College(23)
(but the keeper was not at home); and concluded the night at the
Puppet-show,(24) whence we came home safe at eight, and I left them. The
ladies were all in mobs(25) (how do you call it?), undrest; and it was
the rainiest day that ever dripped; and I am weary; and it is now past
eleven.

14. Stay, I'll answer some of your letter this morning in bed: let me
see; come and appear, little letter. Here I am, says he: and what
say you to Mrs. MD this morning fresh and fasting? Who dares think MD
negligent? I allow them a fortnight; and they give it me. I could fill
a letter in a week; but it is longer every day; and so I keep it a
fortnight, and then 'tis cheaper by one half. I have never been giddy,
dear Stella, since that morning: I have taken a whole box of pills,
and kecked(26) at them every night, and drank a pint of brandy at
mornings.--Oh then, you kept Presto's little birthday:(27) would to
God I had been with you! I forgot it, as I told you before. REdiculous,
madam? I suppose you mean rIdiculous: let me have no more of that; 'tis
the author of the Atalantis's(28) spelling. I have mended it in your
letter. And can Stella read this writing without hurting her dear eyes?
O, faith, I am afraid not. Have a care of those eyes, pray, pray, pretty
Stella.--'Tis well enough what you observe, that, if I writ better,
perhaps you would not read so well, being used to this manner; 'tis an
alphabet you are used to: you know such a pot-hook makes a letter; and
you know what letter, and so and so.--I'll swear he told me so, and that
they were long letters too; but I told him it was a gasconnade of
yours, etc. I am talking of the Bishop of Clogher, how he forgot.