court, on the right hand, in Fishamble street. I have told you this long story, to desire you will send for the woman, this Anne Giles, and examine her strictly, to find if she be the real daughter of Elizabeth Jones, alias Perkins, or not; and how her mother, who is so well able, came to send her in so miserable a condition to Ireland. The errand is so romantick, that I know not what to say to it. I would be ready to sacrifice five pounds, on old acquaintance, to help the woman; I suspect her mother's letters to be counterfeit, for I remember she spells like a kitchenmaid. And so I end this worthy business.
My bookseller, Mr. Motte, by my recommendation, dealt with Mr. Hyde[1]; there are some accounts between them, and Hyde is in his debt. He has desired me to speak to Mr. Hyde's executors to state the account, that Mr. Motte may be in a way to recover the balance. I wish you would step to Mr. Hyde's house, and inquire how that matter stands, and how Mr. Motte is to be paid. I suppose Mr. Hyde died in good circumstances, and that there will be no danger of his creditors suffering by his death.
I enclose a letter to Mr. Motte, which you will be so kind to send to the postoffice.
I desire, likewise, that you will make Mrs. Brent buy a bottle of usquebaugh, and leave it with the woman who keeps sir Arthur Acheson's house in Capel street, and desire her to deliver it to captain Creichton[2], who lodges at the Pied Horse, in
