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a diſcourſe aroſe between the two ladies, not proper to be repeated, if I knew every particular; but ended at the laſt, in the unmarried lady’s declaring to the bride, that ſhe thought her husband looked more like a woman than a man. To which the other replied in triumph, he was the beſt man in Ireland.
This and the reſt which paſt, was faithfully recounted to Mrs. Hamilton by her wife, at their next meeting, and occaſioned our young bridegroom to bluſh, which the old lady perceiving and regarding as an effect of youth, fell upon her in a rage of love like a tygreſs, and almoſt murdered her with kiſſes.
[1]One of our Engliſh Poets remarks in the caſe of a more able husband than Mrs. Hamilton was, when his wife grew amorous in an unſeaſonable time.
The doctor underſtood the call,
But had not always wherewithal.
So it happened to our poor bridegroom, who having not at that time the wherewithal about her, was obliged to remain meerly paſſive, under all this torrent of kindneſs of his wife; but this did not diſcourage her, who was an experienced woman, and thought ſhe had a cure for this coldneſs in her husband, the efficacy of which, ſhe might perhaps have eſſayed formerly. Saying therefore with a tender ſmile to her husband, I believe you are a woman, her hands began to move in ſuch direction, that the diſcovery would abſolutely have been made, had not the arrival of dinner, at that very inſtant, prevented it.
However, as there is but one way of laying the ſpirit of curioſity, when once raiſed in a woman, viz. by ſatisfying it, ſo that diſcovery, though de-
