What tho' at Devizes I fed pretty hearty, And made a good meal, like the rest of the party, With wind in my stomach, and noise in my head. I sent for the doctor the very next day, And the doctor was pleas'd, tho' so short was the warning, To come to our lodging betimes in the morning; He look'd very thoughtful and grave, to be sure, And I said to myself,-There's no hopes of a cure! But I thought I should faint, when I saw him, dear mother, C Their systems relax'd, and all turn'd topsy-turvy, Of phlegmatic humours oppressing the women, From fœculent matter that swells the abdomen; But the noise I have heard in my bowels like thunder, Is a flatus, I find, in my left hypochonder. So plenty of med'cines each day does he send Ad crepitus vesper & man' promovend' In English to say, we must swallow a potion I find the same gnawing and wind in my belly; For he says the poor creature has got a Chlorosis, Or a ravenous Pica, so brought on the vapours By swallowing stuff she had read in the papers; And often I've marvell'd she spent so much money In Water-dock Essence, and Balsam of Honey; But PRUDENCE is forc'd ev'ry day to ride out, On a pillion, as soon as she comes from the pump; The Captain's a worthy good sort of a man, For he calls in upon us whenever he can, And often a dinner or supper he takes here, And JENNY and he talk of MILTON and SHAKSPEARE: For the life of me now I can't think of his name, But we all got acquainted as soon as we came. Don't wonder, dear mother, in verse I have writ, For JENNY declares I've a good pretty wit; She says that she frequently sends a few verses To friends and acquaintance, and often rehearses: And I hope, as I write without any connection, I shall make a great figure in DoDSLEY'S Collection; At least, when he chooses his book to increase, I may take a small flight as a fugitive piece. But now, my dear mother, I'm quite at a stand, So I rest your most dutiful son to command. SB-NR-D. BATH, 1766. |