sleep, I go earlier
to bed than formerly; and have not been out so late these two
months; but the Secretary was in a drinking humour. So good-night,
myownlittledearsaucyinsolentrogues.

19. Then you read that long word in the last line; no,(8) faith, han't
you. Well, when will this letter come from our MD? to-morrow or next day
without fail; yes, faith, and so it is coming. This was an insipid snowy
day, no walking day, and I dined gravely with Mrs. Vanhomrigh, and
came home, and am now got to bed a little after ten; I remember old
Culpepper's maxim:

"Would you have a settled head,
You must early go to bed:
I tell you, and I tell't again,
You must be in bed at ten."

20. And so I went to-day with my new wig, o hoao, to visit Lady
Worsley,(9) whom I had not seen before, although she was near a month in
town. Then I walked in the Park to find Mr. Ford, whom I had promised to
meet; and coming down the Mall, who should come towards me but Patrick,
and gives me five letters out of his pocket. I read the superscription
of the first, "Pshoh," said I; of the second, "Pshoh" again; of the
third, "Pshah, pshah, pshah"; of the fourth, "A gad, a gad, a gad, I'm
in a rage"; of the fifth and last, "O hoooa; ay marry this is something,
this is our MD"; so truly we opened it, I think immediately, and it
began the most impudently in the world, thus: "Dear Presto, We are even
thus far." "Now we are even," quoth Stephen, when he gave his wife
six blows for one. I received your ninth four days after I had sent my
thirteenth. But I'll reckon with you anon about that, young women. Why
did not you recant at the end of your letter, when you got my eleventh,
tell me that, huzzies base? were we even then, were we, sirrah? But I
won't answer your letter now, I'll keep it for another time. We had a
great deal of snow to-day, and 'tis terrible cold. I dined with Ford,
because it was his Opera-day and snowed, so I did not care to stir
farther. I will send tomorrow to Smyth.

21. Morning. It has snowed terribly all night, and is vengeance cold. I
am not yet up, but cannot write long; my hands will freeze. "Is there a
good fire, Patrick?" "Yes, sir." "Then I will rise; come, take away the
candle." You must know I write on the dark side of my bed-chamber, and
am forced to have a candle till I rise, for the bed stands between me
and the window, and I keep the curtains shut this cold weather. So pray
let me rise; and Patric