LETTERS OF JAXE AUSTEN
Mrs. Portman is not much admired in Dorsetshire;
the good-natured world, as usual, extolled
her beauty so highly that all the neighbourhood
have had the pleasure of being disappointed.
My mother desires me to tell you that I am a very good housekeeper, which I have no reluctance in doing, because I really think it my peculiar excellence, and for this reason — I always take care to provide such things as please my own appetite, which I consider as the chief merit in housekeeping. I have had some ragout veal, and I mean to have some haricot mutton tomorrow. We are to kill a pig soon.
There is to be a ball at Basingstoke next Thursday. Our assemblies have very kindly declined ever since we laid down the carriage, so that dis-convenience and dis-inclination to go have kept pace together.
My father′s affection for Miss Cuthbert is as lively as ever, and he begs that you will not neglect to send him intelligence of her or her brother, whenever you have any to send. I am likewise to tell you that one of his Leicestershire sheep, sold to the butcher last week, weighed 27 lb. and ¼ per quarter.
I went to Deane with my father two days ago to see Mary, who is still plagued with the rheumatism, which she would be very glad to get rid
of, and still more glad to get rid of her child, of
