_Picadilly, October_ 31, 1711.
_SIR,_
I am joined in Wedlock for my Sins to one of those Fillies who are
described in the old Poet with that hard Name you gave us the other
Day. She has a flowing Mane, and a Skin as soft as Silk: But, Sir, she
passes half her Life at her Glass, and almost ruins me in Ribbons. For
my own part, I am a plain handicraft Man, and in Danger of breaking by
her Laziness and Expensiveness. Pray, Master, tell me in your next
Paper, whether I may not expect of her so much Drudgery as to take
care of her Family, and curry her Hide in case of Refusal.
_Your loving Friend_,
Barnaby Brittle.
_Cheapside, October_ 30.
_Mr_. SPECTATOR,
I am mightily pleased with the Humour of the Cat, be so kind as to
enlarge upon that Subject.
_Yours till Death_,
Josiah Henpeck.
P.S. You must know I am married to a _Grimalkin_.
_Wapping, October_ 31, 1711.