tler came to me, and begged me to dictate a paper
to him, which I was forced in charity to do. Mr. Harley still mends;
and I hope in a day or two to trouble you no more with him, nor with my
shin. Go to bed and sleep, sirrahs, that you may rise to-morrow and walk
to Donnybrook, and lose your money with Stoyte and the Dean; do so,
dear little rogues, and drink Presto's health. O pray, don't you drink
Presto's health sometimes with your deans, and your Stoytes, and your
Walls, and your Manleys, and your everybodies, pray now? I drink MD's to
myself a hundred thousand times.

15. I was this morning at Mr. Secretary St. John's for all my shin; and
he has given me for young Harrison the Tatler the prettiest employment
in Europe; secretary to my Lord Raby,(3) who is to be Ambassador
Extraordinary at the Hague, where all the great affairs will be
concerted; so we shall lose the Tatlers in a fortnight. I will send
Harrison to-morrow morning to thank the Secretary. Poor Biddy Floyd(4)
has got the smallpox. I called this morning to see Lady Betty Germaine,
and when she told me so, I fairly took my leave. I have the luck of
it;(5) for about ten days ago I was to see Lord Carteret;(6) and my lady
was entertaining me with telling of a young lady, a cousin, who was then
ill in the house of the smallpox, and is since dead: it was near Lady
Betty's, and I fancy Biddy took the fright by it. I dined with Mr.
Secretary; and a physician came in just from Guiscard, who tells us he
is dying of his wounds, and can hardly live till to-morrow. A poor wench
that Guiscard kept, sent him a bottle of sack; but the keeper would
not let him touch it, for fear it was poison. He had two quarts of old
clotted blood come out of his side to-day, and is delirious. I am sorry
he is dying; for they had found out a way to hang him. He certainly had
an intention to murder the Queen.

16. I have made but little progress in this letter for so many days,
thanks to Guiscard and Mr. Harley; and it would be endless to tell you
all the particulars of that odious fact. I do not yet hear that Guiscard
is dead, but they say 'tis impossible he should recover. I walked too
much yesterday for a man with a broken shin; to-day I rested, and went
no farther than Mrs. Vanhomrigh's, where I dined; and Lady Betty Butler
coming in about six, I was forced in good manners to sit with her till
nine; then I came home, and Mr. Ford came in to visit my shin, and sat
with me till eleve