JENKINS
GRASCO, Sept. 7.
Remember me, as usual, to Sall. -- We are now coming home, though
not the nearest road. -- I do suppose, I shall find the kitten a
fine boar at my return.
To Sir WATKIN PHILLIPS, Bart. at Oxon.
DEAR KNIGHT,
Once more I tread upon English ground, which I like not the worse
for the six weeks' ramble I have made among the woods and
mountains of Caledonia; no offence to the land of cakes, where
bannocks grow upon straw. I never saw my uncle in such health and
spirits as he now enjoys. Liddy is perfectly recovered; and Mrs
Tabitha has no reason to complain. Nevertheless, I believe, she
was, till yesterday, inclined to give the whole Scotch nation to
the devil, as a pack of insensible brutes, upon whom her
accomplishments had been displayed in vain. -- At every place where
we halted, did she mount the stage, and flourished her rusty
arms, without being able to make one conquest. One of her last
essays was against the heart of Sir George Colquhoun, with whom
she fought all the weapons more than twice over. -- She was grave
and gay by turns -- she moralized and methodized -- she laughed, and
romped, and danced, and sung, and sighed, and ogled, and lisped,
and fluttered, and flattered -- but all was preaching to the desart.
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