Mrs. Pringle to Miss Mally
Glencairn
London.
London.
My dear Miss Mally—You must
not expect no particulars from me of our journey; but as Rachel
is writing all the calamities that befell us to Bell Tod, you
will, no doubt, hear of them. But all is nothing to my
losses. I bought from the first hand, Mr. Treddles the
manufacturer, two pieces of muslin, at Glasgow, such a thing not
being to be had on any reasonable terms here, where they get all
their fine muslins from Glasgow and Paisley; and in the same
bocks with them I packit a small crock of our ain excellent
poudered butter, with a delap cheese, for I was told that such
commodities are not to be had genuine in London. I likewise
had in it a pot of marmlet, which Miss Jenny Macbride gave me at
Glasgow, assuring me that it was not only dentice, but a
curiosity among the English, and my best new bumbeseen goun in
peper. Howsomever, in the nailing of the bocks, which I did
carefully with my oun hands, one of the nails gaed in ajee, and
broke the pot of marmlet, which, by the jolting of the ship,
ruined the muslin, rottened the peper round the goun, which the
shivers cut into more than twenty great holes. Over and
above all, the crock with the butter was, no one can tell how,
crackit, and the pickle lecking out, and mixing with the seerip
of the marmlet, spoilt the cheese. In short, at the object
I beheld, when the bocks was opened, I could have ta’en to
the greeting; but I behaved with more composity on the occasion,
than the Doctor thought it was in the power of nature to
do. Howsomever, till I get a new goun and other things, I
am obliged to be a prisoner; and as the Doctor does not like to
go to the counting-house of the agents without me, I know not
what is yet to be the consequence of our journey. But it
would need to be something; for we pay four guineas and a half a
week for our dry lodgings, which is at a degree more than the
Doctor’s whole stipend. As yet, for the cause of
these misfortunes, I can give you no account of London; but there
is, as everybody kens, little thrift in their housekeeping.
We just buy our tea by the quarter a pound, and our loaf sugar,
broken in a peper bag, by the pound, which would be a disgrace to
a decent family in Scotland; and when we order dinner, we get no
more than just serves, so that we have no cold meat if a stranger
were coming by chance, which makes an unco bare house. The
servan lasses I cannot abide; they dress better at their wark
than ever I did on an ordinaire week-day at the manse; and this
very morning I saw madam, the kitchen lass, mounted on a pair of
pattens, washing the plain stenes before the door; na, for that
matter, a bare foot is not to be seen within the four walls of
London, at the least I have na seen no such thing.
In the way of marketing, things are very good here, and
considering, not dear; but all is sold by the licht weight, only
the fish are awful; half a guinea for a cod’s head, and no
bigger than the drouds the cadgers bring from Ayr, at a shilling
and eighteenpence apiece.
Tell Miss Nanny Eydent that I have seen none of the fashions
as yet; but we are going to the burial of the auld king next
week, and I’ll write her a particular account how the
leddies are dressed; but everybody is in deep mourning.
Howsomever I have seen but little, and that only in a manner from
the window; but I could not miss the opportunity of a frank that
Andrew has got, and as he’s waiting for the pen, you must
excuse haste. From your sincere friend,
Janet
Pringle.
