Harley: and, faith, young women, I will tell you what you must count upon, that I never will write one word on the third side in these long letters.
10. Poor MD's letter was lying so huddled up among papers I could nor find it: I mean poor Presto's letter. Well, I dined with Mr. Harley to day, and hope some things will be done; but I must say no more: and this letter must be sent to the posthouse, and not by the belman. I am to dine again there on Sunday next; I hope to some good issue. And so now, soon as ever I can in bed, I must begin my 6th to MD, as gravely as if I had not written a word this month: fine doings, faith. Methinks I do not write as I should, because I am not in bed; see the ugly wide lines. God Almighty ever bless you, &c.
Faith, this is a whole treatise; I will go reckon the lines on the other sides. I have reckoned them[1].
LETTER VI.
London, Oct. 10, 1710.
SO as I told you just now in the letter I sent half an hour ago, I dined with Mr. Harley to day, who presented me to the attorney general sir Simon Harcourt, with much compliment on all sides, &c.
Harley
