go to Clogher, faith, I am; and so God Almighty protect poor dear, dear, dear, dearest MD. Farewell till to night. I will begin my eleventh to night; so I am always writing to little MD.
LETTER XI.
London, Dec. 9, 1710.
SO, young women, I have just sent my tenth to the postoffice, and, as I told you, have received your seventh (faith I am afraid I mistook, and said your sixth, and then we shall be all in confusion this month.) Well, I told you I dined with lord Abercorn to day, and that is enough till by and by; for I must go write idle things; and twittle twattle. What is here to do with your little MDs? and so I put this by for a while. It is now late, and I can only say MD is a dear saucy rogue, and what then Presto loves them the better.
10. This son of a b Patrick is out of the way, and I can do nothing; am forced to borrow coals: it is now six o'clock, and I am come home after a pure walk in the Park; delicate weather, begun only to day. A terrible storm last night: we hear one of your packet boats is cast away, and young beau Swift in it, and general Sankey: I know not the truth; you will before me. Raymond talks of leaving the town in a few days, and going in a month to Ireland, for fear his wife should be too far gone,
