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The Expedition of Humphry Clinker

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THE EXPEDITION OF HUMPHRY CLINKER 307<br />

kimfittable to eat, being as how they live upon board, and having<br />

nothing but a piss <strong>of</strong> could cuddling tart and some blamangey, I<br />

was tuck with the cullick, and a murcy it was that mistress had her<br />

viol <strong>of</strong> assings in the cox.<br />

But, as I was saying, I think for sartain this match will go fore-<br />

wood; for things are come to a creesus; and I have seen with my<br />

own hays, such smuggling—But I scorn for to exclose the secrets<br />

<strong>of</strong> the family; and if it wance comes to marrying, who nose but the<br />

frolick may go round—I believes as how, Miss Liddy would have<br />

no reversion if her swan would appear; and you would be surprised,<br />

Molly, to receive a bride’s fever from your humble sarvant—but<br />

this is all suppository, dear girl; and I have sullenly promised to<br />

Mr. <strong>Clinker</strong>, that neither man, woman, nor child, shall no that<br />

arrow said a civil thing to me in the way <strong>of</strong> infection—I hopes to<br />

drink your health at Brambleton-hall, in a horn <strong>of</strong> October, before<br />

the month be out—Pray let my bed be turned once a-day, and the<br />

windore opened, while the weather is dry; and burn a few billets<br />

with some brush in the footman’s garret, and see their mattrash<br />

be dry as a bone; for both our gentlemen have got a sad could<br />

by lying in damp shits at sir Tummas Ballfart’s. No more at<br />

present, but my sarvice to Saul and the rest <strong>of</strong> our fellow-sarvents,<br />

being,<br />

Dear Mary Jones,<br />

always yours,<br />

Oct. 4. WIN. JENKINS<br />

To Miss LÆTITIA WILLIS, at Gloucester<br />

MY DEAR LETTY,<br />

THIS method <strong>of</strong> writing to you from time to time, without any<br />

hopes <strong>of</strong> an answer, affords me, I own, some ease and satisfaction<br />

in the midst <strong>of</strong> my disquiet, as it in some degree lightens the burthen<br />

<strong>of</strong> affliction; but it is at best a very imperfect enjoyment <strong>of</strong> friend-<br />

ship, because it admits <strong>of</strong> no return <strong>of</strong> confidence and good<br />

counsel—I would give the whole world to have your company for<br />

a single day—I am heartily tired <strong>of</strong> this itinerant way <strong>of</strong> life—I am<br />

quite dizzy with a perpetual succession <strong>of</strong> objects—Besides it is

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