LETTER XXIX.
Amazon, October 20th, 1801.
MY DEAREST FRIEND,
Only two days more, the Admiralty could, with any conscience, keep me here; not that I think, they have had any conscience.
I dare say, Master Troubridge is grown fat. I know, I am grown lean, with my complaint: which, but for their indifference about my health, would never have happened; or, at least, I should have got well, long ago, in a warm room, with a good fire, and sincere friends.
I believe, I leave this little squadron with sincere regret, and with the good wishes of every creature in it.
How I should laugh, to see you, my dear friend, rowing in a boat; the beautiful Emma rowing a one-armed Admiral in a boat! It will certainly be caricatured.
Well done, farmer's wife! I'll bet your turkey against Mrs. Nelson's; but, Sir William and I will decide.
Hardy says, you may be sure of him; and, that he has not lost his appetite.
You will make us rich, with your economy.