I AM astonished, that Dr. Lewis should take upon him to give away Alderney, without my privity and concurrants. What signifies my brother’s order? My brother is little better than noncompush. 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 trumps 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 loser 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 every thing runs cross at Brambleton-hall. You say the gander has broke the eggs; which is a phinumenon I don’t understand; for when the fox carried off the old goose last year, he took her place, and hatched the eggs, and partected the goslings like a tender parent. Then you tell me the thunder has soured two barrels of beer in the seller. But how the thunder should get there, when the seller was double locked, I can’t comprehend. Howsomever, I won’t have the beer thrown out, till I see it with mine own eyes. Perhaps it will recover. At least it will serve for vinegar to the sarvents. You may leave off the fires in my brother’s chamber and mine, as it is unsartain when we return. I hope, Gwyllim, you ’ll take care there is no waste; and have an eye to the maids, and keep them to their spinning. I think they may go very well without beer in hot weather. It serves only to inflame the blood, and set them agog after the men. Water will make them fair, and keep them cool and tamperit. Don’t forget to put up in the portmantel, that cums with Williams, along with my riding habit, hat, and feather, the vial of purl water, and the tincktur for my stomach; being as how I am much troubled with flutterencies. This is all at present, from

Yours,
TABITHA BRAMBLE.

To Dr. Lewis.

Bath, April 28.

DEAR DICK,

I HAVE done with the waters; therefore your advice comes a day too late. I grant that physic is no mystery of your making. I know it is a mystery in its own nature; and, like other mysteries, requires a strong gulp of faith to make it go down. Two days ago, I went into the King’s Bath, by the advice of our friend Ch—, in order to clear the strainer of the skin, for the benefit of a free perspiration, and the first object that saluted my eye, was a child full of scrophulous ulcers, carried in the arms of one of the guides, under the very noses of the bathers. I was so shocked at the sight, that I retired immediately with indignation and disgust. Suppose the matter of these ulcers, floating on the water, comes in contact with my skin, when the pores are all open, I would ask you what must be the consequence? Good Heavens, the very thought makes my blood run cold! we know not what sores may be running into the water while we are bathing, and what sort of matter we may thus imbibe; the king’s evil, the scurvy, the cancer, and the pox; and, no doubt the heat will render the virus the more volatile and penetrating. To purify myself from all such contamination, I went to the duke of Kingston’s private Bath, and there I was almost suffocated for want of free air; the place was so small, and the steam so stifling.

After all, if the intention is no more than to wash the skin, I am convinced that simple element is more effectual than any water impregnated with salt and iron; which, being astringent, will certainly contract the pores, and leave a kind of crust upon the surface of the body. But I am now as much afraid of drinking as of bathing; for, after a long conversation with the Doctor, about the construction of the pump and the