caves among the rocks, devour young children, speak Velch, but the vords are different. Our ladies would not part with Mr Clinker, because he is so stout and so pyehouse, that he fears neither man nor devils, if so be as they don’t take him by surprise.--Indeed, he was once so flurried by an operition, that he had like to have sounded.--He made believe as if it had been the ould edmiral; but the old edmiral could not have made his air to stand on end, and his teeth to shatter; but he said so in prudence, that the ladies mought not be afear’d. Miss Liddy has been puny, and like to go into a decline--I doubt her pore art is too tinder--but the got’s-fey has set her on her legs again.--You nows got’s-fey is mother’s milk to a Velch woman. As for mistress, blessed be God, she ails nothing.--Her stomick is good, and she improves in grease and godliness; but, for all that, she may have infections like other people, and I believe, she wouldn’t be sorry to be called your ladyship, whenever sir George thinks proper to ax the question--But, for my part, whatever I may see or hear, not a praticle shall ever pass the lips of, Dear Molly, Your loving friend, WIN. 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. The baronet, being a well-bred man, carried his civilities as far as she could in conscience expect, and, if evil tongues are to be believed, some degrees farther; but he was too much a veteran in gallantry, as well as in war, to fall into any ambuscade that she could lay for his affection--While we were absent in the Highlands, she practised also upon the laird of Ladrishmore, and even gave him the rendezvous in the wood of Drumscailloch; but the laird had such a reverend care of his own reputation, that he came attended with the