The miser married

Winterdale, Feb. 15, 1812.

I hope you get on with business. Tell the rascals I will not abate them a farthing. Because their fathers and grandfathers had the lands for nothing, I suppose they will think it an infringement on their rights to be made to pay for them. If it had not been for this unlucky hurt on my foot, I would have played the devil with them myself. No man can doubt your honesty: I only fear your resolution. Remember, however, I delegate my devilship to you, and do not forget to use it.

I am miserable without you. Nothing goes right. Mr. Clodpole is the most cursed awkward, fellow that ever existed, both about one's person and one's business. I wonder you, who have lived with me more than nineteen years, and scarcely ever left me a day, could not give him some better instructions. When he puts on my coat, he dislocates my shoulders; and when he brushes it on my back, he labours as if he were rubbing down one of his horses.

1 have lived wholly on venison and poultry since you left me, because I would not trust Clod to go to market: and notwithstanding drumsticks, fag-ends of pasties, and nice pickings of bones, which have gone into the kitchen, he and Martha have smoaked one of the flitches of bacon. The dozen of wine you brought up will last me till you return; for though, at my usual allowance, they are calculated for only twenty-four days; yet, by saving a glass a day, I shall make them hold out a month. The key of the ale cellar plagues me more than all the rest, I carry it in my pocket; but I cannot draw ale myself; and, whenever Clod does, I am forced to stand on the cellar steps, to see that he does not drink at the cask.

My lawsuit with the fellow that cut the stick out of the hedge goes on well. Foreclose was here to-day, and says it will not cost me above fifty pounds; while it will cost him a hundred. That is some comfort, however.

My son is not yet arrived. He writes me word he wants thirty pounds, before he can leave Oxford. No doubt he does. He always wants thirty pounds: so do I; but I know the value of it, as well as he, and shall not part with it.--I am sure his University education has cost me upwards of a hundred pounds a year, which is more than he will ever make of his latin and logic. The grand article of learning is pounds, shillings, and pence; and that he might have acquired at home.

The lady who has taken Ravenhill Lodge is come to it, with her family, which Martha tells me consists of a daughter and a niece. She says Mrs. Mereval is a handsome woman, not more than eight and thirty, and that the two girls are very beautiful. So they may be for me. I had a glance of two female figures, peeping through the lattice of the little door in the park wall, and I sent for the carpenter directly, to nail it up with boards. These women may, perhaps, think they have a right to be acquainted with me, because they chuse to come and live at the next house. I can tell them that will be no easy matter. As I have done going to church, I shall not know them; and if I pass their house I shall not look at it.

Write, as soon as you receive this, to

JOHN WINTERDALE.

Winterdale, Feb. 15, 1812.

DEAR MUSTER MENDALL,

My master sed as I must put a letter in his franck; so I takes this hopertunity of letting you to know my sinsare good witches for your return back; for all the fatt has bin in the fire sense you have bin gon; and my master is so misdeemful that nothing can satisfy him. Our new nybers Mrs. Merriveal, and Miss Merriveal, and Miss Mobrey, and too lady's mades, and a footmon and a groom, and a cuck and howsmade com last wick to Raving ill loge; and verry fine fokes they be, Ile ashure you; purtickilurly the footman; for Ive only sin but him yet. For I gos won day to the Red Lyon, to fatch a pennath of barm, and thar I sid him, owt o livvry, and as smart, as yourself, but maybe a leetel younger. And Mrs. Tomson said, this is the squres how skipper; and so, says he, we shall be glad to see you at the loge, mame; and our ladies will be happy to wate of you at the hall, mame. Ah! says I, no sich luck, Ime afeard; for hour master wunnot let us have no sosity with nobody

Howsomever, I thot to myself, as they all knod I was the squrs howskiper, Ide furbitch myself up a bit, among sich fine fokes; and you knos as Ive gott tew very good silk gownds, only they be a litel ainchant; so I axed my master to let me have the mantimucker from the town, to halter um a bit; and, with some truebell he gen me leaf. So it happened as Ide made him a nice lite pudden o the Sundy, and hid nevr tuched it; a the Mundy Ide put it in the huvoon, and wormd it up again, and then he never tuched it; a the Tusday I cut it in slices, and warmd it afore the fire, and sent it in, for the third time, wich they say pays for all, and still it com back as it went; but, gad! it had lick to paid me; for, as hill luck wad have it, I gen it the mantemacker. 0 Lord! how did he starm, wen he axed for it a the Wensdy, and I told him hit was gon! I thot, to be shure, hid a gin me warning.

Poor Rafe is worser off nor I bin; for mastr dars not let him do nothin, for feard he shold cheat him. He darcent send him to markit, and so we has bin eatin o the baking flick, and mastar maks a nise at that; tho God he knows I has sent him in all the rodid, to his fowls and his turk keys.

I ha made his venson past tys o drippin, becos he allows me but a pond and a hafe o butter a wick. But I shod never a don, if I was to tell you hall; only I must tel you that I begd on him to gi me the keys o the silk dam usk rums, to set the winders open, and dust the cortins; and I has gin the copwebs a good dressin; but I thinks, in anuther seven yere the beds will ware umselves out, and gee me no moor trubbel.

Rafe hav got aquinted with madam Mereveals groom, and he says he is a likely fellow. So no more at present from your wel wisher and feller sarvent till death,

MARTHA STABLE.