Chapter LXXI: Letter LXIX: 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 caution her, 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----.