d touched for the evil,(14) the son of a grocer
in Capel Street, one Bell; the ladies have bought sugar and plums of
him. Mrs. Mary used to go there often. This is Patrick's account; and
the poor fellow has been here some months with his boy. But the Queen
has not been able to touch, and it now grows so warm, I fear she
will not at all. Go, go, go to the Dean's, and let him carry you to
Donnybrook, and cut asparagus. Has Parvisol sent you any this year?
I cannot sleep in the beginnings of the nights, the heat or something
hinders me, and I am drowsy in the mornings.

9. Dr. Freind came this morning to visit Atterbury's lady and children
as physician, and persuaded me to go with him to town in his chariot.
He told me he had been an hour before with Sir Cholmley Dering, Charles
Dering's nephew, and head of that family in Kent, for which he is Knight
of the shire. He said he left him dying of a pistol-shot quite through
the body, by one Mr. Thornhill.(15) They fought at sword and pistol this
morning in Tuttle Fields,(16) their pistols so near that the muzzles
touched. Thornhill discharged first; and Dering, having received the
shot, discharged his pistol as he was falling, so it went into the air.
The story of this quarrel is long. Thornhill had lost seven teeth by a
kick in the mouth from Dering, who had first knocked him down; this
was above a fortnight ago. Dering was next week to be married to a fine
young lady. This makes a noise here, but you will not value it. Well,
Mr. Harley, Lord Keeper, and one or two more, are to be made lords
immediately; their patents are now passing, and I read the preamble to
Mr. Harley's, full of his praises. Lewis and I dined with Ford: I found
the wine; two flasks of my Florence, and two bottles of six that Dr.
Raymond sent me of French wine; he sent it to me to drink with Sir
Robert Raymond and Mr. Harley's brother,(17) whom I had introduced him
to; but they never could find time to come; and now I have left the
town, and it is too late. Raymond will think it a cheat. What care I,
sirrah?

10. Pshaw, pshaw. Patrick brought me four letters to-day: from Dilly at
Bath; Joe; Parvisol; and what was the fourth, who can tell? Stand away,
who'll guess? Who can it be? You old man with a stick, can you tell who
the fourth is from? Iss, an please your honour, it is from one Madam MD,
Number Fourteen. Well; but I can't send this away now, because it
was here, and I was in town; but it shall go on