you all about the bottle of palsy-water
by Smyth; and to-morrow morning I will say something to your letter.

24. Morning. Come now to your letter. As for your being even with me, I
have spoken to that already. So now, my dearly beloved, let us proceed
to the next. You are always grumbling that you han't letters fast
enough; "surely we shall have your tenth;" and yet, before you end your
letter, you own you have my eleventh.--And why did not MD go into the
country with the Bishop of Clogher? faith, such a journey would have
done you good; Stella should have rode, and Dingley gone in the coach.
The Bishop of Kilmore(15) I know nothing of; he is old, and may die; he
lives in some obscure corner, for I never heard of him. As for my old
friends, if you mean the Whigs, I never see them, as you may find by my
journals, except Lord Halifax, and him very seldom; Lord Somers never
since the first visit, for he has been a false, deceitful rascal.(16)
My new friends are very kind, and I have promises enough, but I do
not count upon them, and besides my pretences are very young to them.
However, we will see what may be done; and if nothing at all, I shall
not be disappointed; although perhaps poor MD may, and then I shall be
sorrier for their sakes than my own.--Talk of a merry Christmas (why do
you write it so then, young women? sauce for the goose is sauce for the
gander), I have wished you all that two or three letters ago. Good lack;
and your news, that Mr. St. John is going to Holland; he has no such
thoughts, to quit the great station he is in; nor, if he had, could I
be spared to go with him. So, faith, politic Madam Stella, you come
with your two eggs a penny, etc. Well, Madam Dingley, and so Mrs. Stoyte
invites you, and so you stay at Donnybrook, and so you could not write.
You are plaguy exact in your journals, from Dec. 25 to Jan. 4. Well,
Smyth and the palsy-water I have handled already, and he does not lodge
(or rather did not, for, poor man, now he is gone) at Mr. Jesse's, and
all that stuff; but we found his lodging, and I went to Stella's mother
on my own head, for I never remembered it was in the letter to desire
another bottle; but I was so fretted, so tosticated, and so impatient
that Stella should have her water (I mean decently, do not be rogues),
and so vexed with Sterne's carelessness.--Pray God, Stella's illness
may not return! If they come seldom, they begin to be weary; I judge by
myself; for when I seldom