| Citation |
NYP-F.780.015
9 Nov 1780:11,12 (192)
The following letter to Tabitha, was intercepted when the
American army lay near the New-Bridge. It was put into my
hands by the same person who detected the former one in your
paper; but it has not been in my power, till now, to make
such alterations as appeared proper for concealing the
author. I am sorry however to inform the public, that I
might have saved myself that trouble, as there is good
reason to believe, the writer either dying or dead of a
distemper, occasioned it is said, by the ignorance or
mismanagement of her physicians in treating a common cold.
October 26, 1780.
New-York, September 12, 1780
How little I dreamt, when I wrote last my sister,
The rebels were still on our backs like a blister.
When they mov'd to Fort Lee, I was happy too soon,
And thought myself snug as the man in the moon.
. . . [8 lines]
Such, forsooth is the case when the enemy comes,
And as usual, I'm told, as the noise of their drums.
. . . [52 lines, complaining about British officers as
lovers.]
What sorrowful tunes do they set to our eyes;
When they sing of themselves what fustian and lies;
. . . [12 lines]
This morning, quoth Bet, as she lac'd on my stays,
It enters my head, we shall have no more plays;
And as for the balls dance at them who may,
I trust there will none of them fall in our way.
. . . [26 more lines, signed] Z.
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