Whatever each thought was reveal'd but in looks, And I trust that for once they were legible books, Which fairly translated read this way I deem, Our compassion is mutual, be such our esteem, We walk'd home together a road long and dreary, But my heart trod in air, nor did Agnes seem weary, And her mother declares she'll go with us to-morrow To visit and comfort these children of sorrow, And tho' with the Major engaged to my cost, To take my revenge for some trifles I've lost; And sweet Lady Shufflecut vow'd I should take, A hand at her table, yet all I'll forsake, For one gentle smile from that excellent being, Of all this world's pleasures is best worth the seeing, And would she but smile in the way that I want her, The wealth of the Indies for _that_ smile I'd banter; But adieu, my dear mother, I cannot dissemble, That my hopes, and my fears, put me all in a tremble. &c. &c. &c. [Footnote 6: Rev. R. Mitten who has lived at Harrogate more than 40 years.] LETTER VIII. _High Harrogate, August 26th._ This week in such various amusement has past, I have scarce had an hour to myself since my last, On Monday all day we for wagers were prancing, And concluded at night with most exquisite dancing; Our belles and our ball every other excell'd, And our supper the finest you ever beheld; With Agnes I danc'd and with Agnes I sat, 801 And enjoy'd much communion tho' but little chat. On Tuesday we all sally'd out on the green, To see Mr. ---- drive his dashing machine, In a figure of eight, but alas he was cross'd, And his coach and four bays were to --n--s--n lost! For his horses tho' doubtlessly brutes of great sense, Were unskill'd in the shaping or saving of pence; But he quickly redeem'd them and mounting again, Return'd our brisk cheers as he drove o'er the plain. The next day we were treated with excellent races, But alas when they clos'd there were many long faces; And especially poor Lady Shufflecut's prov'd, She had dabbled too much in the current she lov'd; So profusely her bets had been offer'd around, That her wings were close clipp'd ere she drove from the ground; When eagerly seeking her loss to repair, She doubled the mischief that fell to her share; And in words cabalistic combin'd with "done, done," The evening completed what morning begun, And tho' till broad day-light she push'd on her chance, Yet fortune ne'er deign'd an encouraging glance, For Major O'Baffin and Twig'em together, Pluck'd her poor little Ladyship down to a feather.