Killala,
As I was yesterday sitting on a haycock, thinking intensely of her that gives the relish to all my pleasures, and as a reward for so faithfully performing my duty, my dearest sister's letter was brought to me. As for the riddle, I own my ignorance, I cannot find it out; pray always send me the explanations with your riddles, for I am dullness itself.
Poor Mrs. West! there's an end of her beauty and vanity; the illness she had before her death I hope was of service to her. Just as I came was I dragged out, to go to the grotto: I resisted as much as I could, that I might bestow all the evening on you, but company being here, I was afraid they might be affronted if I shut myself up, and country ladies, you know, are tetchy things. I have now snatched up my pen in great haste, much afraid I shall not have time to finish my letter before the postman sounds his horn.
You said not one word to me about Bunny's wearing his own hair.10 I had a letter yesterday from Lady Carteret: she writes me word that he ‘looks very well with his new-adorned pate.’ Tell me what you think? I fancy a wig became him better; what provoked him to cut so bold a stroke? I received a packet of the same sort as yours, the author is easily guessed — she is made of odd materials; I wonder at this time frolics can take place.
Last Monday our family and Mr. Palmer's met on a very agreeable expedition. We were in all twenty; we left home about eleven, and went four mile in coaches and chaises, then we all mounted our horses, and went to a place called Patrick Down, seven mile from Killala. The road is all the way by the sea-side, over vast cliffs, such as you have seen about Mr. Basset's, in Cornwall. We had no prospect from the Downs where we stood, but the main ocean; about a mile from the cliffs, that are of an immense height, is a rock which formerly was joined, I believe, to the part where we stood, for it seemed to be the same height: grass grows upon it, and there is the remains of a wall; it is so perpendicular that no one could climb it. The day was just so windy as to make the waves roll most beautifully, and dash and foam about the rocks. I never saw anything finer of the kind; it raised a thousand great ideas; oh! how I wished for you there! it is impossible to describe the oddness of the place, the strange rocks and cavities where the sea had forced its way. For our feast there was prepared what here they call a ‘swilled mouton,’ that is, a sheep roasted whole in its skin, scorched like a hog. I never eat anything better; we sat on the grass, had a rock for our table; and though there was great variety of good cheer, nothing was touched but the mouton. The day was very agreeable, and all the company in good humour.
I beg the receipt of American balsam and elder-berry water.