Give me leaf to tell you, methinks you mought employ your talons better,
than to encourage servants to pillage their masters. I find by Gwyllim,
that Villiams has got my skin; for which he is an impotent rascal. He
has not only got my skin, but, moreover, my butter-milk to fatten his
pigs; and, I suppose, the next thing he gets, will be my pad to carry
his daughter to church and fair: Roger gets this, and Roger gets
that; but I’d have you to know, I won’t be rogered at this rate by any
ragmatical fellow in the kingdom--And I am surprised, docter Lews, you
would offer to put my affairs in composition with the refuge and skim
of the hearth. I have toiled and moyled to a good purpuss, for the
advantage of Matt’s family, if I can’t safe as much owl as will make me
an under petticoat. As for the butter-milk, ne’er a pig in the parish
shall thrust his snout in it, with my good-will. There’s a famous
physician at the Hot Well, that prescribes it to his patience, when
the case is consumptive; and the Scots and Irish have begun to drink it
already, in such quantities, that there is not a drop left for the
hogs in the whole neighbourhood of Bristol. I’ll have our butter-milk
barrelled up, and sent twice a-week to Aberginny, where it may be sold
for a half-penny the quart; and so Roger may carry his pigs to another
market--I hope, Docter, you will not go to put any more such phims in my
brother’s head, to the prejudice of my pockat; but rather give me some
raisins (which hitherto you have not done) to subscribe myself
Your humble servant, TAB. BRAMBLE BATH, May 19.
To Sir WATKIN PHILLIPS, of Jesus college, Oxon.