Mrs. Dingley desires me singly Her service to present you; hopes that will content you; But Johnson madam is grown a sad dame, For want of your converse, and cannot send one verse. 3 P.S. You keep such a twattling with you and your bottling; But I see the sum total, we shall ne'er have a bottle; The long and the short, we shall not have a quart, I wish you would sign't, that we have a pint. For all your colloguing,[3] I'd be glad for a knoggin:[4] But I doubt 'tis a sham; you won't give us a dram. 'Tis of shine a mouth moon-ful, you won't part with a spoonful, And I must be nimble, if I can fill my thimble, You see I won't stop, till I come to a drop; But I doubt the oraculum, is a poor supernaculum; Though perhaps you may tell it, for a grace if we smell it. STELLA. [Footnote 1: In this letter, though written in prose, the reader, upon examining, will find each second sentence rhymes to the former.--_H._] [Footnote 2: Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Dingley.--_F._] [Footnote 3: A phrase used in Ireland for a specious appearance of kindness without sincerity.--_F._] [Footnote 4: A name used in Ireland for the English quartern.--_F._] DR. SHERIDAN'S ANSWER I'd have you to know, as sure as you're Dean, On Thursday my cask of Obrien I'll drain; If my wife is not willing, I say she's a quean; And my right to the cellar, egad, I'll maintain As bravely as any that fought at Dunblain: Go tell her it over and over again. I hope, as I ride to the town, it won't rain; For, should it, I fear it will cool my hot brain, Entirely extinguish my poetic vein; And then I should be as stupid as Kain, Who preach'd on three heads, though he mention'd but twain. Now Wardel's in haste, and begins to complain; Your most humble servant, dear Sir, I remain, T. S.--N. Get Helsham, Walmsley, Delany, And some Grattans, if there be any:[1] Take care you do not bid too many. [Footnote 1: _I.e._ in Dublin, for they were country clergy.--_F._] DR. SWIFT'S REPLY