; but give it to
Dingley, pray now; and I will write as plain as the skies." And again,
"God Almighty bless poor Stella, and her eyes and head: what shall we do
to cure them, poor dear life?" Or, "Now to Stella's little postscript;
and I am almost crazed that you vex yourself for not writing. Can't you
dictate to Dingley, and not strain your dear little eyes? I am sure
'tis the grief of my soul to think you are out of order." They had been
keeping his birthday; Swift wished he had been with them, rather than
in London, where he had no manner of pleasure: "I say Amen with all my
heart and vitals, that we may never be asunder again ten days together
while poor Presto lives." A few days later he says, "I wish I were at
Laracor, with dear charming MD," and again, "Farewell, dearest beloved
MD, and love poor poor Presto, who has not had one happy day since he
left you." "I will say no more, but beg you to be easy till Fortune
takes his course, and to believe MD's felicity is the great goal I aim
at in all my pursuits." "How does Stella look, Madam Dingley?" he asks;
"pretty well, a handsome young woman still? Will she pass in a crowd?
Will she make a figure in a country church?" Elsewhere he writes, on
receipt of a letter, "God Almighty bless poor dear Stella, and send her
a great many birthdays, all happy and healthy and wealthy, and with
me ever together, and never asunder again, unless by chance.... I can
hardly imagine you absent when I am reading your letter or writing to
you. No, faith, you are just here upon this little paper, and therefore
I see and talk with you every evening constantly, and sometimes in the
morning." The letters lay under Swift's pillow, and he fondled them as
if he were caressing Stella's hand.

Of Stella herself we naturally have no direct account in the Journal,
but we hear a good deal of her life in Ireland, and can picture what she
was. Among her friends in and about Trim and Laracor were Dr. Raymond,
the vicar of Trim, and his wife, the Garret Wesleys, the Percevals, and
Mr. Warburton, Swift's curate. At Dublin there were Archdeacon Walls and
his family; Alderman Stoyte, his wife and sister-in-law; Dean Sterne
and the Irish Postmaster-General, Isaac Manley. For years these friends
formed a club which met in Dublin at each other's houses, to sup and
play cards ("ombre and claret, and toasted oranges"), and we have
frequent allusions to Stella's indifferent play, and the money which
she lost, m