Tell me truly, sirrah, how many of these are mistakes of the pen, and how many are you to answer for as real ill spelling? There are but fourteen, I said twenty by guess. You must not be angry, for I will have you spell right, let the world go how it will. Though after all, there is but a mistake of one letter in any of these words. I allow you henceforth but six false spellings in every letter you send me.
LETTER XXXIII.
London, Oct. 23, 1711.
I DINED with lord Dupplin, as I told you I would, and put my thirty-second into the postoffice my own self; and I believe there has not been one moment since we parted, wherein a letter was not upon the road going or coming to or from P MD[1]. If the queen knew it, she would give us a pension; for it is we bring good luck to their postboys and their packets: else they would break their necks and sink. But, an old saying and a true one; Be it snow or storm or hail, PMD's letters never fail: Cross winds may sometimes make them tarry; But PMD's letters can't miscarry. Terrible rain to day, but it cleared up at night enough to save my twelvepence coming home. Lord treasurer is much better this evening.
- ↑ That is Presto and MD.
I hate