LETTERLXIX.TO MRS. C——.
July 23, 1778.
DEAR MADAM,
SHALL I acknowledge myself a weak superstitious Fool? Yes, I will tell the honest truth—you have this foolish letter in consequence of a last night’s dream—Queen Mab has been with me—aye, and with Mrs.Sancho too—for my part, I dare not reveal half my dream—but upon telling our night’s visions over the tea-table at breakfast—it was judged rather uncommon for us all to dream of the same party.—Now, I own, I have great reason to dream of you waking—for you have been a true and uncommon friend to me and mine—neither have I the least objection to these nightly visits, so as I have the pleasure to meet you (though but in vision) in good health. Thy health is the very thing that I doubt about—therefore graciously let us know by the next post that you are well, and mean to take every prudent step so to continue. That you have left off tea, I do much approve of—but insist that you make your visitors drink double quantity—that I may be no loser. I hope you find cocoa agree with you—it should be made always over-night, and boiled for above fifteen minutes; but you must caution Miss C—— not to drink it—for there is nothing so fattening to little folks. The R—ns waylaid my friend R——, and pressed Dame Sancho and self into the service last Sunday—we had a good and social dinner; and Mrs.Sancho forced me to stay supper—I think the Doctor looks as well as I ever saw him—indeed I could read in his chearful countenance that he left you well—I do not doubt but you have paid a visit to the camp—and seen brother O—— in his glory—I hope he will have regard to his health, and for profit I do think it must answer better to him than to (almost) any other man in the country. Pray be so kind to make our best respects to Miss A——s, and to every one who delighteth in Blackamoor greetings.—We have no news but old lies—scoured and turned like misers coats which serve very well. We gape and swallow—wonder and look wise—conjurers over a news-paper, and blockheads at home.—Adieu! let me hear that you are very well; it will please Mrs. Sancho; and, if I know any thing of her husband, it will be no less pleasing to your much obliged humble servant and friend,
IGN. SANCHO.
N. B. I walk upon two legs now.
Our best respects to Miss C——, hope she is intent upon camp fashions; but cautionher, in my name, to be on her guard. Cupid resides in camp by choice. Oh, Miss C——! beware—beware of the little God.
I. S.
Now this is writing to Miss C——.