DEAR FRIEND,
In due time, I received your very obliging letter of date the 22nd June, and must again cry you mercy for not acknowledging it sooner. The airs you favoured me with are quite such as I wanted. They were all new to me except “Cothnelan Treil,” which I had past me under the name of “Kitty Tyrrell.” Being busied with other matters, I have not yet attempted songs to any of them save the above, which, I am happy to say, has obtained the promise of a place in the work formerly mentioned; but as these things are best lying past till published in form, I have not given away one copy of any I have written for it, which indeed are only other two. You mention the collection of O‘Ferrol, and another, with the compositions of Carolan, &c. I believe I might find them on enquiry, but I would rather pick up any wild little straggler, such as “Dermot,” which, from their not being so common, have a greater chance of being noticed. You will doubly oblige me by endeavouring to procure one or two more of the above description. (Here he gives some local news.) Remember me to James King by a hard slap on the left shouther, and three hearty shakes of the right hand, which kindness you will please set down to my account. I have no good news to tell you—no, nor very bad ones either; but concerning dear tobacco, dear whiskey, dear candles, dear everything, the obliging bearer of this will inform you.