o-morrow. I dined
with Dr. Freind,(4) the second master of the school, with a dozen
parsons and others: Prior would make me stay. Mr. Harley is to hear the
election to-morrow; and we are all to dine with tickets, and hear fine
speeches. 'Tis terrible rainy weather again: I lie at a friend's in the
City.

May 1. I wish you a merry May Day, and a thousand more. I was baulked at
Westminster; I came too late: I heard no speeches nor verses. They would
not let me in to their dining-place for want of a ticket; and I
would not send in for one, because Mr. Harley excused his coming, and
Atterbury was not there; and I cared not for the rest: and so my friend
Lewis and I dined with Kitt Musgrave,(5) if you know such a man: and,
the weather mending, I walked gravely home this evening; and so I design
to walk and walk till I am well: I fancy myself a little better already.
How does poor Stella? Dingley is well enough. Go, get you gone, naughty
girl, you are well enough. O dear MD, contrive to have some share of
the country this spring: go to Finglas, or Donnybrook, or Clogher, or
Killala, or Lowth. Have you got your box yet? Yes, yes. Do not write to
me again till this letter goes: I must make haste, that I may write two
for one. Go to the Bath: I hope you are now at the Bath, if you had a
mind to go; or go to Wexford: do something for your living. Have
you given up my lodging, according to order? I have had just now a
compliment from Dean Atterbury's lady,(6) to command the garden and
library, and whatever the house affords. I lodge just over against them;
but the Dean is in town with his Convocation: so I have my Dean and
Prolocutor as well as you, young women, though he has not so good wine,
nor so much meat.

2. A fine day, but begins to grow a little warm; and that makes your
little fat Presto sweat in the forehead. Pray, are not the fine buns
sold here in our town; was it not Rrrrrrrrrare Chelsea buns?(7) I bought
one to-day in my walk; it cost me a penny; it was stale, and I did not
like it, as the man said, etc. Sir Andrew Fountaine and I dined at
Mrs. Vanhomrigh's, and had a flask of my Florence, which lies in their
cellar; and so I came home gravely, and saw nobody of consequence
to-day. I am very easy here, nobody plaguing me in a morning; and
Patrick saves many a score lies. I sent over to Mrs Atterbury to
know whether I might wait on her; but she is gone a visiting: we have
exchanged some compliments, but I have not