We were greatly disappointed yesterday that we had not the Pleasure, promis’d us, of our dear Polly’s Company.

Your good Mother would have me write a Line in Answer to your Letter. A Muse, you must know, visited me this Morning! I see you are surpriz’d, as I was. I never saw one before. And shall never see another. So I took the Opportunity of her Help to put the Answer into Verse, because I was some Verse in your Debt ever since you sent me the last Pair of Garters. This Muse appear’d to be no Housewife. I suppose few of them are. She was drest (if the Expression is allowable) in an Undress; a kind of slatternly Negligée, neither neat and clean nor well-made; and she has given the same sort of Dress to my Piece. On reviewing it I would have reform’d the Lines, and made them all of a Length, as I am told Lines ought to be; but I find I can’t lengthen the short ones without stretching them on the Rack, and I think it would be equally cruel to cut off any Part of the long ones. Besides, the Superfluity of these make up for the Deficiency of those, and so, from a Principle of Justice, I leave them at full Length, that I may give you, at least in one Sense of the Word, good Measure. Adieu, my dear good Girl, and believe me ever Your affectionate faithful Friend