228 LETTERS TO GILBERT WHITE 



My Daughter is honoured by your Notice ; She has done 

 some Ruffles for her Mamma, & is now on an Apron like what 

 She worked wth You for Mrs Thomas, but I have no natural 

 Curiosities to amuse her wth & break the Taedium of her work, 

 poor Girl ! — All here well, tho' many Deaths around us by 

 Meazles &c. All join in Love & Esteem wth, 



Dear Gil, Afftely, Your's, 



John Mulso. 



Letter 139. 



To the Reverend Mr White, "Witney. 



at Selbome near Alton, Hampshire. Deer 27, 1770. 



Dear Gil : 



There is not upon Earth a Man so hide bound in point 

 of Letters as your honour. I wrote to you on ye Ninth of this 

 Month, & I thought you would have been so glad to see my 

 Hand- writing again, that you would have mechanically caught 

 up a Pen to thank me for it. But You preserve your old Sang 

 froid. Have you been penning a new Sermon against Christmas 

 Day? As to Charles ye 5th, I finish'd him in three Weeks, 

 & You have had three Months, a solitary House, & a Fire to 

 yourself: So that unless You purposely interrupt yourself in 

 Order to prolong your Pleasure, It must be finish'd in all this 

 Time. But you have an inexhaustible Fund in your Systema I 

 true : but as That will never be over as long as you live, I will 

 not admit it as an Excuse for not writing to me : taedet harum 

 quotidianarum formarum. Miss Allot, who is one of the truest 

 Correspondents I ever had, wrote to me in the Midst of the 

 Storm, that happen'd on the 19 at Night, & very dreadfuU is 

 her Account of it. It was indeed Six in the Morning when She 

 was writing, the Elements in the extreamest Hurly burly, & the 

 Table rocking as She wrote, but She chose the Time to shew me 

 that no Seasons kept me from her Mind, or prevented her Design 

 of thanking me for writing to her. »* This Prebendary of Win- 

 chester, say You, is grown proud I " Indeed he is not, he is 

 grown humble ; he is more than ever soUicitous about the Attach- 

 ment of his friends, & more jealous than ever of their Coldness : 

 perhaps a little piqued, or so : perhaps a little low-spirited : 

 Forgive Weakness in a weak Man I 



My Son Jack has the Meazles ; but the crisis is over, & he 

 is to be taken up today, & is now singing & whistling in Bed 

 in joyfull Expectation of it : the rest of my Children will 

 certainly sicken wth it ; It has gone thro' the Town, & we may 

 look upon it as very providential that it's approach to my House 

 was forbidden, 'till the great Attention necessary to my Case 

 was pretty well over. For now, my dear friend, tho' I cannot 



