The Expedition of Humphry Clinker

44 TOBIAS SMOLLETT
woman, and I are sworn sisters. She has shewn me all her secrets,
and learned me to wash gaze, and refrash rusty siks and bumbe-
seens, by boiling them with winegar, chamberlye, and stale beer.
My short sack and apron luck as good as new from the shop, and
my pumpydoor as fresh as a rose, by the help of turtle-water—
But this is all Greek and Latten to you, Molly—If we should come
to Aberga’ny, you’ll be within a day’s ride of us; and then we shall
see wan another, please God—If not, remember me in your
prayers, as I shall do by you in mine; and take care of my kitten,
and give my kind sarvice to Sall; and this is all at present, from
your beloved friend and sarvent,
Bath, April 26. WINIFRED JENKINS
To Mrs. GWYLLIM, house-keeper at Brambleton-hall
I AM astonished, that Dr. Lewis should take upon him to give
away Alderney, without my privity and concurrants—What signi-
fies my brother’s order? My brother is little better than Non-
compush. He would give away the shirt off his back, and the teeth
out of his head; nay, as for that matter, he would have ruinated the
family with his ridiculous charities, if it had not been for my four
quarters—What between his willfullness and his waste, his
frumps, and his frenzy, I lead the life of an indented slave.
Alderney gave four gallons a-day, ever since the calf was sent to
market. There is so much milk out of my dairy, and the press must
stand still: but I won’t loose a cheese paring; and the milk shall be
made good, if the sarvents should go without butter. If they must
needs have butter, let them make it of sheeps milk; but then my
wool will suffer for want of grace; so that I must be a looser on all
sides—Well, patience is like a stout Welsh poney; it bears a great
deal, and trots a great way; but it will tire at the long run. Before
its long, perhaps I may shew Matt, that I was not born to be the
household drudge to my dying day—Gwyn rites from Crickhowel,
that the price of flannel is fallen three-farthings an ell; and that’s
another good penny out of my pocket—When I go to market to sell,
my commodity stinks; but when I want to buy the commonest
thing, the owner pricks it up under my nose; and it can’t be had for
love nor money—I think everything runs cross at Brambleton-