The Parson and the Fowls; or the Maid too cunning for her Master.

A RICH old batchelor, a clergyman in the country, having made choice of a pretty young maid to his house-keeper, had ordered upon a certain Sunday, a couple of fowls to be got ready for his dinner, that after he had given his con­gregation a little Christian consolation at church, he might come home and re­fresh his tired vitals with a dainty mo­dicum. When the clerk and his looby assistant, had chimed almost for about a quarter of an hour, and jogged the shepherd to fodder his sheep, and mea­sure his time by the sand glass, his pretty housekeeper was left te prepare the cack­lers against the customary time of his return.

The diligent maid when she thought her ghostly master had been long enough exalted two degrees above the clerk, to get about a quarter of an hour on the right side of his text, guessed it a very proper time to lay down the fowls, which she did accordingly. As the tid-bits were [Page 4]running merrily round before a rouzing fire, who should take the advantage of the parson's absence, but his house-keepers sweet-heart, who by his pleasant and com­ical hoity toities, and other winning ac­complishments, had so wriggled himself into her affections, that it is not unrea­sonable to think he had as much com­mand of her as her master.

The maid having mistaken the time of day, happened to be a little too early with her cookery, so that the fowls were fully ready, before the parson had given his hungry auditory leave to re­turn home to their puddings and dump­lings. The sweet-heart being a fellow of an incomparable stomach, thought it a great pity such good victuals should be spoiled for want of eating, and very eagerly solicited his loving jug to spare him one of the fowls to stop a little hole he had in his appetite, telling, her, one would be sufficient for her master, and that she had wit enough to contrive some story or other, handsomely to ex­cuse the matter, and blind him from the true knowledge of what became of it.

The maid being willing to oblige her lover, who she found was so desirous to [Page 5]oblige her on all occasions, ventured to take up one to save the longing of her sweet-heart, who, being very well pre­pared for such a nice enterta [...]nment, gobbled it up with such expedition that before his benefactress had wound up the jack, he had not so much as left the claws which the poor cockril used to scratch the dunghill withal.

He had no sooner thus dispatched his sweet-heart's first courtesy; but he began to be very importunate with her for the second telling her an excuse was as easily made for both as for one; and that she had as good be h [...] for a sheep as a lamb: till at last [...] [...]ding a few melt­ing kisses to h [...] [...]enous solicitations, he prevailed [...] her to draw the other off the spit, [...] [...]e might finish his meal by robbing [...] parson of his Sunday's dinner. The second bird being brought before him, he lost no time, but drove down the former with the latter, with­out any visible abatement of either his speed or his appetite. When he had cleared his dish, and washed all down with a cup of the parson's best beer, he took a thankful leave of his mistress, [Page 6]who now began to be at her wit's end how to excuse the rudeness she had so foolishly committed.

As she was thus pondering with her­self, who should step in but the parson and a stranger with him, who coming from another town to hear him preach, the parson thought himself obliged to invite him home to dinner with him.

No sooner had the old Levite con­ducted his guest into the parlour, but he begged his pardon a minute, and re­tired into another room to whet his knife on the frame of an old table, which was always his cus [...] before dinner; the maid in a peck [...] fears and troubles took the advantage o [...] this interim and stepping into the parlor, in a strange seeming sort of disorder, frightens away her master's guest with a surprizing story, as follows; viz, "Lord, Sir, how came you to venture yourself home with my master at this time of day? When, if you had known him, you might have easily discovered by his countenance, he is in one of his old frieks." "Why, what's the matter with him?" says the country farmer, "he was wondrous civil to me in the church yard, and by [Page 7]all means would bring me home to dine with him." "Alas! good Sir," replied the maid, whatever you do, let me advise you to make the best of your way out of the house, for if you stay, now he is in one of his frenzical humours, he will cer­tainly geld you, and I dare say he is whetting his knife for the same purpose, he has served too or three so already, though they have had discretion to keep it silent because they would not be laugh­ed at." "I thank thee kindly sweet-heart cried the countryman, "are these his tricks with a pox to him? Wounds shew me the next way out, for I would not lose my tarriwags for the best dinner in christendom; Upon which the wench shewed him out of a back door; and away run my gaffer as if the devil was at his heels.

He had not been gone a minute, but in comes the parson with his knife in his hand, and finds his maid stamping and storming, as if she was made in the par­lor with an empty smeared dish upon the table, and his guest gone? "what is the matter now says the parson?" What [...]s the meaning of all this? Where's the man gone that I brought home with [Page 8]me?' "Lord. Sir," replies the maid "I never saw such an unmannerly hound since my eyes were open, I no sooner brought the fowls to the table, but he snatched them both out of the dish, and crammed them into his breeches and scoured out of the back-door as if the devil were in him. "Zouns," says the priest, "I am resolved the impudent rogue shall not cozen me of my dinner so;" and away run the parson after the countryman, who by this time, had gotten near a fields length off from him; but however, having preached himself very hungry, he trotted away after him with his naked knife in his hand, cry­ing out, "Give me you brazen rogue, what you have run away with in your breeches;" the fellow answering as he ran, Efaith, doctor not I, I would rather see you hang'd first." The parson finding the fellow too nimble for him was very willing to compound, and cried out in milder terms, "Prithee, friend dont run away with them both, but be so kind as to let me have one of them," "Not I, by the mass," replies the fellow, "I had rather see you at the devil than part with either of them." The farmer being young [Page 9]and lusty, soon got ground of the parson, that he was forced to give over his ch [...]se and return home puffing and blowing, having nothing l [...]ft but batchelor's fare, viz. Bread and cheese and kisses for his Sunday's dinner.

The Lady's Complaint against the Mer­chant for running away with the Pump.

A Turkey merchant travelling on the road about 20 miles from London, happened to be overtaken by bad weather a little before night, and having no pros­pect of a tavern to have recourse to for shelter, being a man of figure, he resolved to beg admittance at the first house he came to, to avoid the severity of the en­creasing storm; he had not gallopped on a furlong further, but he came to a pretty neat box, which stood by the high way side, where he beheld a very beau­tiful lady looking out of a window upon which he rode up to the door, and ap­plying himself to the lady at the case­ment humbly begged her to take pity up­on a distressed traveller, and that she would be so kind as to give him a recepti­on till the violance of the storm was blown [Page 10]over, or abated; the compassionate lady discerning him to be a gentleman, soon granted his request, and ordered her ser­vant to admit her weather-beaten sup­plicant, and to take care of his horse; he had no sooner taken sanctuary in his little paradise, as he thought it, but a rousing fire was kindled in the parlour, and a cap, nightgown, shirt, slippers, and all conveniences were brought him for shiftng off his wet apparrel, and putting himself into a more comfortable condition.

When he had thus refreshed his body with a good fire, and a dry garment, he presented his service to the lady by her waiting maid, and humbly craved leave to pay his respects to the lady, and that she would honour him with an op­portunity of returning her thanks for the great and charitable obligation she had conferred upon him. No sooner was the message delivered, but the generous lady very readily blessed him with her com­pany: after he had attacked her ears with a whole volley of compliments and discharged himself at her entrance very much like a gentleman, she called for a bottle of canary, and ordered a very agreeable cold entertainment to be [Page 11]brought in, till something was provided hot, that might be more acceptable.

By this time the gentleman presumed so far, as to ask the lady if she was married, who answered in the negative, further telling him, "That she was obliged to a gentleman, who was her pe­culiar friend for her residence in that house who was gone a long journey into Scotland, and that she did not expect him back this six weeks; and withal, as­sured him, since the weather proved so bad, he should be very welcome to stay all night if it suited with his conveni­ency." The gentleman being a jolly juvenile spark, and very amorously in­clined, had no power to refuse so kind an invitation from so fair a lady, but made a facetious acknowledgment of her favour, and thankfully accepted of her obliging proffer; and to prevent any mistrust that, upon more mature deliberation, she might have of his being some designing person, he plucks a letter out of his pocket, directed to him at his house in London, from Sir R. J—, a justice of peace in the city, which had been sent him about three days before by the penny post, the lady [Page 12]read it over with abundance of attenti­on, making him a compliment when she had done, viz, "That there needed nothing further than his appearance to prove him a gentlemen."

The merchant, as he had good rea­son, believing her to be a lady in keep­ing began to take heart of grace, and to treat her after such an amorous man­ner, that was sufficient to let her under­stand he expected, as certainly as he lay there that night, that she should be his bed-fellow; so that when supper was over, having prepared her with a few melting kisses, and other sostening preliminaries, he took the freedom to make her sensible of the unexpressible happiness he had the hopes of enjoy­ing; to which she seemed neither very averse, nor vet over forward, but cum­ningly signified, after a bifarous man­ner, that she wanted some further in­ducement than barely love and oppor­tunity to bring her to a compliance; upon which, the merchant being an intelligent man soon discovered her meaning, and being clevated by her charms and dalliance to the highest pitch of desire, told her that he had no [Page 13]present about him worthy of her accept­ance; but if at any time, when she came to London, she would give herself the trouble to send for him to any ta­vern, he would be extremely glad to wait on her, and that he would pre­sent her with fifty guineas to buy her a diamond ring, if she would do him the honour to wear it for his sake. She seemingly took but slight notice of his generous offer; but however began to shift off her former coyness, and liplead him into a pretty good assurance that he had gained the point, and at last con­descended so far as to promise him her savours, which was no sooner done, but a convenient bed of resignation was ordered to be sheeted next to her own chamber, whither he could have an easy recourse at midnight without the notice es [...]her servants.

When all things were in readiness, the merchant hasted to his pillow, thinking every minute an age till the business was consummated; when all things were hush the servants gone to bed, and the oppor­tunity proved seasonable, the lady was as good as her word, and nothing but [Page 14]Sallengers Round was reciprocally danced till both parties were rather tired than satisfied. About day break, the lady bade him good morrow and returned to her own bed, leaving her wearied lover to refresh himself with a little sleep after his hard night's Journey, when three or four hours repose had enabled him to rise, up he got, and recovering his loss of spirits with a plentiful cup of mulled Canary he returned the lady abundance of thanks for her compassionate favours, discharged himself handsomly of the servants and so proceeded on his Journey.

About a month after the lady came to town? and according to her lover's directions, made bold to send for him to a certain tavern no great distance from his own house; but the gentleman re­collecting what an extravagant promise he had made the lady in requital of her favours, thought it the wisest way to neglect going; accordingly sent back word, "That he was very busy, and could not possibly wait on her;" which provoking slight, after the pretence of so much kindness, justly kindled in the lady, such a revengeful indignation, that her nimble wits had soon formed a [Page 15]project how she should be even with him, resolving to put her design in prac­tice with all expedition.

Accordingly she takes coach, and or­ders the coachman to drive her to Sir Robert J—, a known Justice of Peace, and the very gentleman who sent the letter to the merchant which he had shewn to the lady; Sir Robert being at home and at leisure she was soon admit­ted to acquaint the justice with her business, who told him that she had a great complaint against his friend Mr. Hazard. The justice seemed much sur­prized that so pretty a lady should ap­pear as an enemy against his friend, whom he thought to be a man of un­spotted reputation, and desired to know what she had to charge him with, up­on which the injured lady laid open her grievances thus, "Your friend Mr. Hazard, the merchant, not long since took of me a very pleasant little tene­ment, which he was to occupy without any let, hindrance, or molestation, for a certain term agreed on between both parties, in consideration of the sum of fifty guine as, which he was to pay me on demand; and after; he had enjoyed [Page 16]the premises with all its appurtenances, the full time of agreement, he quitted the possession very dishonourably, and now hides himself from me, because he would not pay me the money." Madam," replied the Justice. "I am very sorry to hear these things of a gen­tleman who is my friend, and a person, that has always enjoyed so fair a char­acter; but however, madam, these are matters that come within the cognizance of the common law, so that they are not properly within my sphere to med­dle with, but this service I can do you: if you please, madam, I will send for him, and if, upon hearing both sides, I find he has done you wrong I will pur­suade him all that I can to do you jus­tice. The lady approved of this proposal, and thanked him for his civility, according­ly Sir Robert dispatched his footman with a message to Mr. Hazard, which brought him presently before his fair accufer. who repeated over her former complaint before the face of the offender; the merchant at first was much surprised to find himself sent for upon this occasion, till perceiving the lady had so wittily couched her ac­cusation under such a modest allegory [Page 17]and then he thought it best to acknow­ledge the charge, lest by denying it, he should provoke the lady to give the justice a full explanation of her mean­ing, to his open shame and dishonor, so that he confessed he had taken a tene­ment of her upon such a consideration as was alledged. "But Madam," says he, "you know there was a deep well belong­ing to this tenement, which wanted a pump, whithout which you are sensible the tenement would have been of no use to me; therefore since I was at the ex­pence of putting up such a conveniency, I think it is but justice you should make a reasonable abatement, "But Sir," replied the lady, "you must consider, when you quitted the possession, that you took the pump along with you; had you left the pump standing that I could have had the use of it when I had seen occasion, I should now be very willing to allow any deduction; but since you put up the pump for your own pleasure, and carried it away with you when you left the tenement. I think it but reason I should have my full money." "Well Madam," replies the gentleman, "be [Page 18]cause you shall have no just reason to say I have dealt hardly to a fair lady, I promise you before I part with you, to pay your full money, and to lend you the pump into the bargain, provided you will take care never to abuse it!" The lady punctually promised "it should never be the worse of her wearing." So taking leave of Sir Robert, he waited upon the lady to the next tavern, in or­cer to lend her the pump, and pay her the money.

Thirty thousand Pounds bid for a Pair of Band Strings; or the two Precious Stones presented to a rich Widow.

A RICH old alderman of the city of London that dealt in the interloping trade to the East-ladies, having a pretty young gentleman to his nephew, who had been bred under him; and being willing to give him an opportunity of raising his fortune, sent him abroad as a supercargo, and withal gave him a thousand pounds to improve himself with the best directions he could how to ma­nage it to advantage: but the young gentleman, it being his first voyage, met [Page 19]with such unexpected losses and crosses abroad, that he at last was forced to re­turn home very unfortunate, and was so far from having added to his uncle's benevolence, that he had quite em­bezzled, not only his own stock, but his uncle's cargo; however, making it appear to the old gentleman, it was more owing to misfortune than extra­vagance: he was very kind and fatherly to his kinsman, notwithstanding his dis­appointment; and having a young brisk widow lady, to whom he was a cashier, and for whom he sometimes traded, that used often to dine with him, he resolved by a stratagem, to try if he could not recommend his nephew as a person worthy of her affections, and as a gen­tleman proper to become her husband.

Accordingly to put his project in prac­tice, he provided himself with a stout horsewhip, which he conveyed privately under his cloak, and when thus armed for his design, he desired his nephew's company to the tavern, in order to take part of a small collation. The young gen­tleman, who was always very fond to obey his uncle, shewed himsef ready in an instant to answer his request; and [Page 20]away trooped the old fox to the next tavern, with the unfortunate cub after him.

They were no sooner entered, but the uncle desired a private room above stairs, a quart of claret, and tobacco, ordering the drawer not to suffer any body to dis­turb them for half an hour, for that they had some particular business to­gether, that would require at least that time to be dispatched in.

When all things were performed ac­cording to order, and the door shut, the old gentleman commanded his nephew to strip to the shirt, that he might see what linen he wore, for he had been in­formed he was grown such a nasty lousy sloven, that no body would venture to lie with him. The young gentleman mightily surprised at his uncle's request, could not imagine what to think of it; at last considering some body or other, through prejudice, might report such a malicious story, he resolved to give his uncle the satisfaction he required, and accordingly pulled off his coat and wa [...] ­coat, assuring him it could be nothing but the spiteful suggestion of some en­vious person who was his enemy, and [Page 21]that in every particular the report was scandalously false.

When he was thus stripped to his shirt the cunning old sly boots, the bet­ter to effects his ends puts on his spec­tacles, and fell to peeping about his wrist-bands and collar, as if, in good earnest, he had been looking for ver­mine, "Come, Sirrah," says he, "now down with your breeches, let me look in the wasteband, for that's the most likely harbour to find such cattle in." "Lord, Sir," says the young gentleman, "you command me now beyond modes­ty." "I tell you, Sirrah," replies the uncle, "I will see what condition you are in, and therefore do as I bid you, or it shall be more out of your way than your head is worth." The nephew know­ing his uncle to be a man of better mo­rals than to have any brutal design upon him, for fear of disobliging him, con­descended to his further request, which he had no sooner done but the old cuff fell to peeping in the seams and gathers, as earnestly as if he had no other drift, than to see if he was lousy; but of a sudden, as he was thus searching pretend­edly for the creepers, up he starts, and [Page 22]before the other could pluck up his breeches, he lugs out his horse-whip, seemingly in a passion: "Sirrah," says he, "your breeches hang, I have heard you whored away your money in Spain and Italy, and that you are returned home with such damnable pox, that the testimonies of your manhood are swelled as big, Sirrah, as a couple of Norfolk dumplings, and I am resolved, before you stir, to know the truth of the matters; therefore lug out your Young Smock Smelling Plugtail, that I may see your condition, or I will jirk your buttocks with this instrument of cor­rection, till I make your teeth chatter in your cod-piece." The young gentle­man believing from his uncle's passion, he had really heard what he told him, between fear and anger, gave the old gentleman the liberty of beholding the premises, that his own eyes might bear witness of the falsehood of these base aspersions.

When the uncle beheld all, according to his judgment, in a sound condition, "Now nephew," says he, "I have a mind to make a bargain with you, what shall I give you for those pair of band strings [Page 23]that nature has tied the bottom of your belly with." "Lord Sir," says the kinsman "I would not take twenty thousand pound for them." "I will give thee," replies the uncle twenty thousand pounds for them, and that's more than they are worth, by considerable," "Bless me Sir," replies the nephew, "I would not part with them for forty." "Thou extravagant Ur­chin," cries the old dad, "I will give thee thirty thousand for them, and if you will not take that, you may keep them." "In truth, Sir." returns the young one. "not I, I would not part with them for the universe." "Then thou mayest e'en dress thyself," says the old Chap, "and button up your ware, for I shall not be your purchaser." "Pray Sir," says the nephew, "now your heat's over, what is you meaning for all this? I am perfectly amazed at the oddness of your fancy." "Hold your tongue, boy," cries old crusty, "and sit down to thy bottle and thy pipe; when thou hast that in thy bed, that I have in my head, you will rightly understand my meaning." He then proceeded to ask his nephew what ready money he had at his command, who told him," About [Page 24]fifty guineas, and that was all he had in the world:" "That's not sufficient," says the old gentleman, "there's a bank bill for two hundred pounds more; be sure you take care to get yourself in good equipage, and take a couple of Blacks from on board, and put them into good liveries, and be ready to dine with me this day se'nnight." Having thus delivered his instructions, they drank off their bottle, and so parted till the time prefixed.

The old gentleman had not been re­turned home above half an hour, but who should step in to sup with him, but the buxom widow, who being very merry and jocund at table, gave to the old alderman a seasonable opportunity to put her in mind of matrimony, won­dering how so pretty a lady, and so good a fortune, could spend so much of her youth and beauty without the consolation of a good husband; and withal began to speak much in the praise of a jolly young nephew of his, who was lately come from the East Indies and had made so prosperous a voyage, that amongst the rest of his effects, he had brought over a couple of such precious [Page 25]stones, that he himself but a few hours since, had bid him 30,000 l. for, but could not prevail with him to part with them, because he had some thoughts of mar­rying, could he meet with a lady to his mind, and that he was resolved to keep them for a present to his bride; this prevailing story took the listening wid­ow presently by the ears, who very frankly expressed herself, "That as the gentleman was his nephew, and one that she had so fair a character of, from so worthy a person as himself. she should be very glad to see him, if it were for no other reason than that he was his relation"

Upon this encouragement the old gen­tleman told her, "He had engaged his nephew to dine with him on that day sen'night, and if she would be pleased to honour them with their company, he should think himself greatly obliged to her." The lady upon the aldermans request, answered, "She should accept of his invitation." And after she had exercised her tongue with a little female tittle tattle she took her leave, resigning the old alderman to his phthisicky cough, and flannel night [...]cap.

[Page 26] When the day appointed came, all persons met according to agreement; & the young spark had so improved his appearance, by his garb and attendance, that he looked as great as a Sco [...]ch Lord, with a couple of his clan or vassals at his elbow. The lady, by that time dinner was over, could not forbear signifying by her eyes her approbation of his per­son: so that by the old gentleman's management, and his instructions to his nephew, the matter was settled in less than a fortnight, and the wedding kept, though with some privacy, at the alder­man's own house; where they had not bedded above two or three nights, but the bride expecting the costly present of those precious stones the alderman had told her of, took an opportunity one night, when she was fast locked in the embraces of her bed-fellow, to ask him what was become of those delicate rich stones he had brought over with him from beyond sea? "My dear, replied the bridegroom, here they are at your service; upon my word these are the individual jewels my uncle bid me thirty thousand pounds for, but I would not part with them: and upon my word, [Page 27]they shall not be set to any body's ring but my own." "Well, my dear, says she since it is as it is, I am so far from repenting my bargain, that now you have presented them to me, I assure you, I accept them so kindly, and like them so well, that all the money in the uni­verse shall not purchase them." So both parties being well pleased, they lived very comfortable together.

The Scolding Wife; or the Husband's Comical Revenge.

A JOLLY Suck-bottle, who was un­luckily decoyed into the wrang­ling state of matrimony, happened to be blessed over the left shoulder with a devil of a termagant, so that if he was not ready to step into his marriage bed by the time Bow bell proclaimed the ninth hour, he was sure to have his ears stringed with such a peal of tongue thunder, more terrible to his ears than the crowing of the cock to the tremb­ling lion: so that having stayed one night with some of his merry com­panions beyond the patience of his bed­fellow, well knowing that his bundle [Page 28]of Rue would be highly provoked at his transgression, he bethought himself of a project that might divert her clam-ours and change the furious scene into a pleasant comedy.

Accordingly he provided himself with a pound of sausages, which he button­ed in his breeches, and then staggered home to his tormentor, in order to put his merry conceit in practice. No soon­er was he admitted into his habitation, but he found his teaser so full charged with ill language, that she let fly a volley of rogues and rascals at him, wounded his reputation beyond all pa­tience, taxing him with the neglect of family duty; crying, "She was sure nothing but the company of lewd women could occasion him to such unreasonable hours." Upon which words, he snatches a knife in one hand, and clapping the other into his breeches, cuts off one of the sausages, and daubs it into the fire, crying, "He hoped now he should put an end to her jealousy." The frightened wife took it to be the testimony of his manhood, and running to the door, made a lamentable out-cry among the neighbourhood, "That her husband [Page 29]had murdered himself, by cuting off his Do-little, and flinging it into the fire; begging to rise, for the Lord's sake, for to come to her assistance."

The good women, much alarmed at such a frightful story, whipped on their under petticoats and slip-shoes, and came running with more speed than if it had been to a labour; in a minute the house was as full of tittle tattle of all ages, as if god Priapus had erected his standard, and beat up for female volunteers to fight under his banner; all shaking their heads, and beholding with sorrowful eyes, the little spectacle in the fire, hissing, sputtering and broiling, as if it had really been poor Pego spitting its last venom at that provoking sex, which had often been the occasion of his downfal. The good man sitting all the while grunting and groaning in his chair, as if he was just expiring: A cunning old matron in the front of the female assembly, mistrusting there might be some cheat in the matter, expressed herself to the rest of her sister gossips after the following manner, "Come, come, neighbours, I think it is highly [Page 30]necessary we should enquire into the truth of this unhappy business." And having spoken these words, she popped her hand into his cod-piece, where she felt the rest of the sausages, upon which she shook her head, and fetching a deep sigh, cried out, "I vow to God, neigh­bours, he has certainly unmanned him­self, and has cut so great a gash in the bottom of his belly, that his guts are tumbled into his breeches;" which oc­casioned the good man to burst into open laughter, and at last to discover the whole secret, that the talkative con­gregation might be undeceived, and return home to their warm bed, and there with their husbands, fall to the old trade of basket-making, which they accordingly did, leaving the pre-supposed Gelding to convince his Whither d'ye go, that he had more wit in his anger, than to revenge himself of an ill tongue, by burning his peace maker.

The Watch-maker and the Constable.

A WATCH-MAKER, who was much given to wind up the springs of life above the common pitch, with a [Page 31]chearful bottle, he happened one night to tarry so long over his tipple, that the midnight monarch at Ludgate had got the start of him, and resumed his elbow throne before the other had quit­ted his tavern chair; so that having a little overloaded himself with liquor, as he was staggering through the gate, he had a verbal summons from the watch, to reel before the constable, who made the accustomary enquiry into what occa­sion he could have to drink so much & to stay out so late? The watch-maker hickup'd an answer as well as he could, telling the constable flatly, though not very plainly, "That good wine, and good company, were the chief motives that induced him into his error." "Pray, friend," further added Mr. Conniwoble, "of what trade are you?" "A watch-maker," replied the other.—"Odds heart," says her Majesty's representative to his body guard, "suppose this man should have a charge of watches about him, and happen to loose them now he is in drink, who knows but he may lay them to our charge." Then turning to his drunken respondent, asked him, if he had ever a watch about him? Who [Page 32]looking round him, replied, "Yes truly and a constable too; I wish the devil had them all." "Well, friend," says the constable, "you may go about your business, for if you have any watches about you, I find, you have wit enough to secure them; and so farewell to thee."

The Waterman and the drowned Dog; or the Gentleman cozened of his Sausages.

A GENTLEMAN who lived at Greenwich, having business at London, and being a lover of sausages, coming by a wise's house who was eminent for making them, he furnished himself with a couple of pounds in a sheet of brown paper, which he design­ed to carry home for his own eating. When he had dispatched the affair that called him to town, he returned to Tow­er Stairs, in order to take boat for Greenwich. When he came to the wa­ter-side, finding he had the advantage of the tide, being a man of no prodi­gality, he contented himself with a skuller. The genleman boarding his wherry, sat himself down, and [...] [Page 33]sausages behind him; but the paper not being tied, began to open a little by degrees, so that the waterman, who was an arch fellow, by a glance of his eye, discovered what his fare had provided to regale himself, but took not the least notice of them, that the gentleman might not mistrust he had any know­ledge of what was contained in his little bundle. By and by they happened to overtake a huge dead mastiff floating upon the water with his skin off, and his flesh rendered by putrifaction, of as many colours at the rainbow. The waterman looking earnestly upon the stinking carrion, shook his head, and scratched his ears, and shewed all im­aginable signs of his great uneasiness; which the fare observing, could do no less than take notice of, and asking him, "If that dog had ever been his, that he seemed so much concerned at the sight of him." The waterman answered him, "No, but he could wish he was his now. and that he would willingly excuse him his fare, if he would be so kind as to let him go back, to take him up in the stern of his boat." "Z—ds," says the gentleman, "he will stink so confound­edly, [Page 34]it will be enough to give me the plague; besides, I cannot imagine what the devil thou canst propose to do with him." "Ah! master, if I had but him in my boat, I would desire no other fare to day; if my wife had him but at home, he would be worth, at least, half a piece to us." "Prithee friend," says the gentleman, "be so kind as to let me know what use thou should put him to; I have a great desire to be sa­tisfied." The waterman seemed back­ward telling him, "It was a secret, and if it should be publicly known, it would be the ruin of his family." The gen­tleman grew still the more importunate to have his curiosity satisfied, giving such assurances of his secrecy in the matter, that in short the waterman told him, "His wife made sausages, and that he had lately found by experience, that dog's flesh, which had been sodden about a month in the river, after it was well cleansed with salt and water, put in amongst her pork, made the tenderest and best sausages in the world; and that his wife, since her discovery of this secret, had got such a reputation in what she pretended to, that she served most [Page 35]of the gentry's houses about Greenwich."

The nastiness of this story put the gentleman into such a hawking and spit­ting condition, as if he had been in a salivation; that when he came to his landing place, he very fairly walks out of the boat, and leaves the sausages be­hind him: The waterman lets him pass on a little way, and then taking them up in his hand, calls after him, "Sir, sir, you have left your sausages behind you." "Ay, ay, replies the gentleman, I know it well enough, thou may'st even take them, and a pox take thee; the plague take thy wife, and the devil take the dog for I shall never eat sausages more for fear they should be of your wife's making." So away trudged the gentle, man, and left his supper to the water­man.

The distressed Seamen: or, the Boat's Crew that supped in the Whale's Belly.

A JOLLY seaman happening into the company of some romancing travel­lers, very confidently affirmed the fol­lowing story, viz "The last voyage, (says he) I took, was in a small vessel, [Page 36]called the Sparrow's Nest, bound directly to Jamaica, where we lay in harbour about six weeks before we got her freighted. From thence we were con­signed back to a merchant in London; and the day before we sailed, we took on board an old woman, as a passenger, who for many years had kept a bawdy­house in Port-Royal, till she had suc­cessfully acquired by the industry of the tail, the value of 2000 l. which she had changed into Spanish gold, and had brought it on board with her in a small escritoir, being very desirous of spend­ing her latter days in England, that when she died might lay her bones to rest in her own country, we weighed anchor, with the wind at west and by south, getting clear of the land without any difficulty; and scudded merrily on till we made Cuba, the Isle of Pines, the Cape Florida, and so entered the gulph: But before we got through, (as ill for­tune would have it) a plank happened to start, and we sprung a leak so fast, that, notwithstanding our pumps, we had four feet water in the hold in less than an hour's time, so that we had no hopes left of saving ourselves, but by [Page 37]betaking ourselves to the boat, which accordingly we did; taking int he com­pass, and such biscuit and fresh water as we could venture to carry along with us. The old woman begged hard that we would take in her box of money, which, on second thoughts, we yielded to, not knowing how useful it might prove to us, if we should chance to be driven on shore amongst the Florida In­dians. We were in all but eight hands besides the old woman, who was as pe­nitent for all her past crimes, as an old thief going to the gallows. Thus, ex­posed to the rage of the merciless ocean, we depended wholly upon providence to protect us; rowing by turns, keeping on our right course, by the direction of our compass, having nothing but the dread of destruction before our eyes, unless by some unexpected miracle pre­vented. The remainder of the day we spent in labour at our oars, till at last night drew on, having neither ship nor shore in sight from whence to expect safety; but fortune favouring us with little wind and a calm, sea, we thought it necessary to take so sair an opportu­nity [Page 38]to refresh our bodies with a little rest, that we might be the better able to strive against the hardships of tempestu­ous weather if it should happen. Ac­cordingly we drew cuts who should set at the helm, and look out for a sail, or awake the rest, if any danger should arise, and who should the lot fall upon but myself: A greeably I took my post, while the rest endeavoured to compose themselves to sleep; who being much tired with the day's fatigue, fell all to snoring in a very little time: they had not long got the start of me, but I grew so very drowsy that I could not forbear nodding, and at last dropped into as sound a sleep as any of them; so that death had now an advantage to have catched us napping.

How many hours we continued in this silence, I cannot tell; at last one awakes, and finds it so very dark, that he could neither see moon, star, sky or boat; nor could he perceive the boat had any motion as was usual; with that he alarms the rest, who began to rub their eyes, and endeavoured to look about them, but could not so much as see their hands, "Bless me, said, I, it is [Page 39]a dark long night, I believe we shall never see day again." Another takes his oar, and claps it over-board, "W—ds, faid he, we are cast ashore in some creek, where the tide has left us; for the de­vil a drop of water is there about the boat." "For God's sake, says the old woman, set me on shore, and give me my box; I care not where I am, if it be but upon dry land." "Prithee, said I, strike a light that we may see who and who's together." Which was accor­dingly done, upon which we found our­selves pent up in a little place, but where we could not think nor imagine. The old woman seeing no water about her, was over hasty to get upon dry land, as she thought, and scrambled over the gunnel of the boat? at which interim one of the sailors, being a little more circumspect than ordinary, happened to espy the en­trails of some creature or other hanging over his head. "Z—ds, says he we are got into a butchers shambles, I think, for here is a delicate pluck hangs: we have had no fresh provisions for a good while, by my lord and my lady, I'll have a good slice of the liver." He then drew out his knife, and cut off about two pounds, upon [Page 40]which we were shot out as swift as an arrow from a bow, through a narrow pas­sage, and found ourselves again upon the sea, and no land near us, it being of a sudden broad day light, and the sun almost upon the meridian, as we found after by our observation. We were all strangely startled and surprised wondering from whence we came, or what place that could be from whence we were ejec­ted with such a rapid force. At last look­ing round us we espied a monstrous whale which occasioned us to think he had gorged us in our sleep, and was provo­ked by the wound in his liver, to throw us up again. But as fortune would have it we brought the money along with us and left the old bawd behind, for the whale to spue up at another opportunity.

The Lover's fortunate Adventure; or, the young Ones too cunning for the old Ones.

A YOUNG Gentleman of Hackney, known by the name of 'squire Suck-bottle, made it his endeavour to procure a match with Sir Thomas Closepurse's daughter. In a little time he made a con­siderable progress in his design, and had [Page 41]gained both the affections and consent of the young lady before he had pro­posed any treaty with her father, who hearing of the intrigue between Suck-bottle and his daughter, was so highly enraged at his clandestine proceedings, that he forewarned him from his house, and as a more secure prevention from the match, confined his daughter close pris­oner in her own apartment. The young 'squire being deeply concerned at the severe usage of a Roman lover, went by midnight when all things were hush and silent, to Closepuse's habitation where by the assistance of a friend, he raised a ladder, and mounted himself upon the leads of the house and knowing her lodg­ings, dropped a letter down the chimney, to give her notice he would make her a visit the next night the same way him­self; which letter in the morning the lady found with unexpressible satisfaction.

According to the time prefixed, the 'squire, with the assistance of two trusty friends, went in order to accomplish his intrigue. The engine he had prepared to shoot the chimney being a rope and a basket, by which means he was con­veyed [Page 42]safely through the sooty gulph, at the bottom of which the panting lady was ready to receive him in her joyful [...] arms.

The signal to be given when his friends should pull him up, was a jog with the rope. Such a familiarity had already passed between them, that they lost no time in courtship, but prepared themselves for those joys to which they hasted with equal eagorness. They had no sooner leaped into their downy oli [...] ­sium, but the braces of the ticking be­gan to celebrate the pleasures of the night with their accustomary music, which was unhappily over heard by her lady mother in the next room, who wa­king her husband, told him, "She was sure somebody was got to bed to her daughter." Upon which Sir Thomas leaps up in a wonderful haste, takes the key of his daughter's chamber out of his pocket, which he would not intrust with any but himself, and gropes his way to the door. The lovers having done with their first course, and being laid down to take a little breath, hap­pened to hear the old gentleman sumb­ling at the key-hole; upon which the [Page 43]daughter, through a great presence of mind, skips nimbly out of the bed, sets a chair between the bed and the chim­ney, kneels down, and with abundance of seeming fervency fell to prayers; and just as her father opened the door softly, she was in this part of her devo­tion; "I beseech thee make me a com­fort to my father's grey hairs, encrease his riches, advance him to honour, and may he live to the age of Mathusalem." The old dad was so highly pleased with his daughter's piety and kind supplica­tions for her aged father, that he took no notice, and would by no means dis­turb her, but gently shut the door and returned to his bedfellow, giving her a sharp reproof for her evil opinion of their dutiful and godly child.

Having by this stratagem prevented a discovery, the lovers renewed their joys, the old lady her jealousy, who arose, took the key, and would go her­self to be satisfied: who entered the chamber with such silence, that the busy lovers heard her not till she stumbled at the chair, and by lucky accident fell into the basket, which jogged the rope, and gave the signal. The anglers above [Page 44]thinking they had caught the right fish, pulled up; the old lady roared, but still they hauled, till at last finding their mistake, took her out of the basket in a fit, and laid a second time, and drew up him they fished for, making all a clever escape, free from any detection: leaving the matron of the family upon the leads, who recovering from her fright, shook of her trance, and making a lamentable catterwauling, raised the family to her assistance; who were wonderfully amazed to find their lady in the condition of a chimney sweeper; and she being unable to give any ac­count how she was conveyed thither, it was conjectured by her husband as a just judgment to punish her for her evil conceptions of their innocent and righte­ous daughter.

The pleasing Revenge; or, the Brewer's Son overmatched by the Weaver's Dau­ghter.

THERE was a rich weaver in Spittal­field, (which is news in the very place, because they are generally very poor), who had but one child, and that a daughter, [Page 45]The old gentleman being a fat man, was full of dropsy and ill humours, and withal very lethargic. His daughter being aptu­dent young woman behaved herself with duty and tenderness to her sick father, that he could not endute to think of her marrying whilst he lived; having buried his wife, and could have no body, as he thought, that would nurse and at­tend him with such diligence as his kind and obedient daughter: Who indeed, though a good humoured creature, was blest but with few external charms to render her inviting. An arch unlucky blade who was son to a neighbouring brewer, using to take delight in jesting with the female sex, pretended to court her, and made her believe he designed to make her his wife; carrying on the matter to so great a height, that the morning was appointed on which they were to be married at St. Pancras church, he promising to meet her at a certain hour in the church-yard, and to bring the ring and a licence along with him, the whole proceeding being without the knowledge of the father.

When he had thus carried on the jest almost to the last period, he tells what [Page 46]he had done to an acquaintance, who was a man of a comely stature, though of a mean fortune, and knowing she was the only daughter of a rich and infirm parent, presently bethought himself of a probable method of converting this project to his own interest, but acquaint­ed not the other of his design for fear of a disappointment. His friend having told him the morning and hour, and that he intended not so much as to meet her, but let her wait in the fields by herself, under the dissatisfaction of so great a disappointment: The other considering, when thoughts of wedlock are once raised in a woman, too revenge­ful passion such base usage must in all probability kindle, would so rob her reason, that she could not weigh things with such discretion as to with stand his importunities, so that he ventured, hap hazard to take out a licence and buy a ring; and walks about half an hour before the time to Pancras, goes into a house, and takes up a convenient room where he might observe the walks and motions of his proposed help mate.

According to the time, the maiden came fired with thoughts of that hap­py [Page 47]state into which she was about to enter; but found no lover (as she ex­pected) to receive her. She waited a little time with patience; thinking, through the error of the clock, she might be before the hour. But by that time, she had waited about half an hour, which seemed as tedious as an age, she began to shew in her face some signs of disorder; then her un­known lover thought it time to give his courtship a beginning. Accordingly he goes down to her and courteously gives her a morning salutation, and tells her, "he came on purposs, thro' the respect he had for her, to inform her how un­manly and base an affront was put upon her;" which so greatly enraged her, that her eyes rained showers on her snowy breasts vexation having turned her pleasing hopes into sighs and sadness; he then began to express his own affections for her, and breach by little and little his design, giving her all the verbal testimonies of his love imagi­nable; using all necessary protestations to assure her he would prove one of the best of husbands, and conform to all things where she would place her case [Page 48]and satisfaction; till at last the maid, prudently considering the disgrace of being thus served, and what a blot it would be upon her reputation, when published amongst the neighbourhood, consents to his request, and they were married. She obliging him to keep it silent for a time, till she should take a seasonable opportunity to pacify her fa­ther. Then, after a little time spent over a small repast, they parted, The first news this married virgin heard when she went home, was, that her uncle was dead in the country, who had no chil­dren of his own, and had left her 400 l. which the brewer's son hearing, came within two or three days to beg pardon; and to endeavour to excuse the rudeness he had committed; she seemingly forgave him, and appointed him a second time to meet her at the same place, which on his side was then designed in good earnest. But to return his kindness, she hires one of her fa­ther's journeyman, who was a stout fellow to go and thresh him round the church yard as it is said the devil does his wife in rainy weather when the sun shines, which the fellow did according­ly. [Page 49]The victim came running in a great passion to his mistress and demanded the reason why she had so served him, who told him, "As he went to be married, she hoped he had met with his match." and so dispatched him. The old man hearing the story in a little time after, was so pleased with the witty revenge of his daughter, that he reconciled him­self to her marriage, and received her husband into the house, where they all now live very comfortably together.

The Thieves too cunning for the Bailiffs: or, one gang of rogues outwitted by ano­ther.

AN unhappy gentleman (who by thoughtless management and dilato­ry execution of his own affairs) having reduced a plentiful estate to a slender subsistence, and being in danger of a judgment, griped into the talons of an unmerciful miser, thought the safest measures he could take in securing him­self from the raw nous catch poles (those blood hounds or jack alls, who hunt down the prey for that tyrannic beast, [Page 50]an usurer) was to quit the town, and make a general trial of his relations in the country, hoping their flowing gene­rosity might a little repel the current of his ebbing fortune, which must of ne­cessity prove otherwise impetuous. His wife and a fervent he leaves in town behind him, in a house of his own, very well furnished, being the only re­mains of a considerable patrimony. He had not absented himself from home above two or three days, but thirty in the hundred, by some busy neighbour was informed of it, who went and en­tered up his judgment, takes out execu­tion, and dispatches his emissaries to the speedy destruction of his debtor: about this time, some thieves having know­ledge of the gentleman's absence, were contriving which way to rob the house; to accomplish which, lurking about it one evening to make their entrance, and the careless maid leaving open the back door, while she stept to the bake­house, one of the rouges slipped in, hav­ing agreed with his confederates, to conceal himself in the house till mid­night, and then to let them in, to finish heir design, with the less fear of danger [Page 51]or interruption. The cunningest of the theives having proceeded so far as to get safe footing within doors, stepped up stairs undiscovered, and hides himself in an old chest which stood by the bed side of a well furnished chamber, which no body lay in: by this time, the o­ther rogues, the bailiffs, I mean, were got to the fore-door, consulting by what means they should get admittance to serve their execution, (whilst the poor gentlewoman and her maid were totally ignorant of either danger) at last they agreed one should knock, and as soon as the door was opened; rush in by violence, and secure the door for the rest to follow, which accordingly was done, and their office executed, to the great affliction and surprize of both the mis­tress and her servant, the rogue (who, for distinction's sake, we must call thief) above stairs, who lay as silent in his chest, as a sturdy Greek in the belly of the Trogan horse, began to be a little startled at the sorrowful cries and dis­turbances he heard below stairs thinking himself now not quite so safe as a thief in a mill; and opening his iron bound hut (which was indeed made with a [Page 52]design to keep out rogues and not con­ceal any), he gave his ears such an ad­vantage of their voices, that he made shift to discover by their talk, the whole business, resolving still to execute his roguery as successfully as the liberty stealers had done theirs. So down again he lay to meditate upon his good work, and consider of the best means to effect it with the least danger. The cannibals below flairs, according to their usual civility, turned the gentlewoman and maid out of doors, who were forced to be beholden to a neighbour for a lodg­ing, whilst these tail pieces of the law, who bring up the rear of destruction, were devouring the provisions of the distressed, who had nothing but Provi­dence to trust to for the next meal; some of these Egyptian caterpillars at night went home, leaving two well arm­ed men to keep possession, who, about ten o'clock went to bed, making choice of that room for a lodging where the aonester man of the three lay buried in antiquity; waiting with patience for the hour of his resurrection. About eleven o'clock he ventures to open his chest, as far as an oyster does his shell, to receive [Page 53]new breath, and heard by their snoaring, they were in a fine condition for the devil to fetch them; out he rises from his dark and uneasy confiner, cramped and crippled like a London prentice just delivered from his Guild Hall pe­nance; but stunk as bad as a dying snuff in the socket of a dark lanthorn, for fear the prying Iscariots should have peeped into his wooden territories, know­ing nothing was more likely, than for one rogue to catch another: But being now pretty well past that danger, he creeps to the bed side, and seeurcs their arms, which were swords and braces of pistols, then goes down stairs, lets in his confederates, were five more, deliver­ing to them the particulars of what had past, whose first business was to tongue­tye the double tongued vipers, who might otherwise prove as dangerous as a snake in the grass: which when they had done by the assistance of their gags, and had bound those unmerciful hands which had drawn many a poor wretch to prison by the collar, they ransacked the house, but had so much mercy, con­sidering the present ciroumstances of the [Page 54]gentleman, and the unhappiness of his family, that they were contented with a small booty, consisting only of a little plate and linen, which they sent off by one man; the other five, to revenge the hard usuage of the gentlewoman and her maid, took the two disturbe [...] of human quiet and placed them upon each other in the chest: and having extorted from them before, a confession of who had employed them, the thieves, like so many bearers carrying an alms house corps without the ornament of either parson, clerk, pall, or relations, conveyed them to the plaintiff's back door, which, by the help of their pick look instruments, they opened: and a [...] careless as our parochial supporters of the dead, gave them a toss from their wearied shoulders into the plaintiff's garden, instead of a more methodical burying-place, where they left them a [...] contentedly as our corps tumblers do their brethren of morality, when they fly from the church-yard to receive the reward of their labour.

The gentleman having made a suc­cessful journey, happened to return the next morning, and finding all things in [Page 55]such a distraction, conceived by his wife's relation of the matter he was greatly abused; to regulate which, he makes an immediate visit to his money-loving creditor, (with a sum in his pocket to satisfy▪ the judgment) who gave him a morose How d'ye for a welcome, and afterwards took him in­to the garden to discourse their busi­ness, where they found the chest, to the great surprize of both; upon which the gentleman taxed him with a con­federacy in the robbery, which the maggots in the nut-shell hearing, made such a bustle, that occasioned a great surprize in both plaintiff and defendant, who opened the coffer and found two naked mutes, (who, indeed, never did deserve the use of either tongues or raiment) but being released from their long sufferings, and finding where they were, made them concur with the gen­tleman's opinion; and, to excuse them selves, were ready to swear the benefac­tor was actually in the robbery; which the gentleman taking the advantage of, frightened his creditor, with threats of warrant, constable, justice, jury and a halter, till, at last he made him (though [Page 56]with privacy) compound the felony, by a general release, and satisfaction for his goods. So that by this fortunate accident, and the assistance of his kind relations, he was restored to his former prosperity, and ever since makes this the motto of his arms.

Intrigue upon intrigue: Or, tha widow become mother to her gallant, and the younger brother father to the elder.

A BRISK airy gentleman belonging to one ot the inns of courts, happened to make his courtship to a rich elderly widow, who had a pretty young girl to her daughter that thought herself as capable of matrimony as her mother; when the gentleman had repeated his visits often enough to grow a little fa­miliar; he found all the agreeable en­couragements he could reasonably expect from a person whose fortune was much superior to his own. But the daughter looking upon her mother's humble ser­vant with more than ordinary respect thought it abundance of pity so youthful [Page 57]and so handsome a gentleman, for the sake of a little money, should bury his juvenile years in the grave of an old wo­man, when herself would be very glad to cherish him in the embraces of a young one. The gentleman had not long con­tinued his courtship, but he found suffi­cient reasons to suspect that he had not only worked himself into the widows love, but also into the affections of the daughter; and began to consider, that the old wo­man was much the better fortune, yet the daughter would prove the more agree­able match, and that what she wanted in fortune would be supplied more to his satisfaction by her youth and beauty be­sides, knowing her to be the only child, thought she must come in at last for the effects of the mother, in case that he could but be subtile enough to divert her from matrimony. Upon these consider­ations he resolved to alter his first reso­lution and only for the future to make ex­ternal courtship to the mother in order to procure more favourable opportunities of bringing his real design upon the daughter to its intended issue.

The better to carry on this intrigue without the mother's suspicion, he tho't [Page 58]it necessary to acquaint his younger bro­ther with the business. that now and then when occasion required he might prove an assistant in the matter.

After this manner he proceeded with the old gentlewoman till he had stolen rea­sonable opportunities enough to con­vince the daughter of his affections for her and to assure her that he only pretended courtship to her mother on purpose to now and then enjoy a lucky moment of mak­ing known the extraordinary passion he truly had for herself. The younger bro­ther, who was a notable sharp witted Gentleman and a very, personable man, reflecting one morning in his bed, upon the foul practice of his brother to gain his ends by disappointing and deceiving the old gentlewoman, began to think it could be no crime in himself to take the advantage of his brother's fallacy, and at once make his own for­tune, and do justice the widow, with­out hindering his brother from effecting his design upon the daughter.

Accordingly he resolved to act a cun­ning part, and to neglect no opportunity of ingratiating himself with the mother, that when she became sensible of his [Page 59]brother's deceit, he might be ready to supply the disappointment by the offer of his own service; which he was in hopes, if rightly managed, would be ac­cepted. The widow having great con­fidence in the integrity of her sham pretender, was mighty respectful to the young gentleman upon his brother's account, so that in a little time he was as familiar in the family, as the daughter's admirer, who all alone made his younger brother acquainted with every tittle of his proceedings.

When the elder brother had worked the young lady up to a compliance, a licence was taken out, and the morning was appointed for the priest to say grace to that love banquet, which both long­ed for with an equal appetite. The younger brother was made privy to the happy hour, and engaged to attend the solemnity in the office of a father, which he performed accordingly when the time came, and smiled in his own sleeve to see the matter consumated; which was no sooner over, but he made an excuse to dispatch a little business, promising to be with them again at dinner.

No sooner had he got his liberty, [Page 60]but away he posted in all haste, to ac­quaint the old gentlewoman, "What a dishonourable trick his brother had putupon her, and how undutiful her daughter had been in complying to be a partner in so base and treacherous an intrigue." The widow, who had never so much as suspected the integrity of her gallant, was so amazed and so confused at the strange tidings, that for a little time she was as stark mad as a raving bed lamite, till her passion was pretty well spent, and then the young gentleman, to spur on her revenge, told her, "That his brother's further design was to divert her if possible, from ma­trimony in hopes that her own fortune, upon her death, might descend to her daughter, so that he should become at last master of all her riches, as well as the fortune already settled upon her daughter, and that this was the main consideration that induced him to mar­ry her daughter after so many preten­tions to herself." This subtle insinuation so inflamed her malice, that she vowed, rather than they should be one shilling the better for what she had, she would marry a cobler, or any rake hall, that [Page 61]she was sure would spend it every groat." To which replied the young gen­tleman, "Madam, a person of your worth, comeliness and discretion, can never have occasion to dispose of your­self to either a mean man or a spend thrift, could you conceive me to be a person worthy of so great a happiness as so good a wife, I should think it a blessing to myself and family, that you would give it into my power, to re­pair the injury and dishonour which my brother has done you; and I assure you further, madam, that if you make me your husband, it will prove a revenge upon him, a blessing to me and I promise you, I will do ail that in an honest gen­tleman lies to make it a happiness to yourself." "Well says the old gentle­woman, lest time and delay should make you prove as great a knave as your bro­ther I will seek out for no other husband nor need any further courtship; but in the revengeful mood I am now in, I will run this minute, headlong to be married."

The young gentleman expressed his ut­most joy for her sudden resolution, so im­mediately ordered a coach to be called [Page 62]and away they went first to make out a licence, and then to be married the very same morning, and at the same church, and by the same minister who had joined the former couple. As soon as the cere­mony was over, the young bridegroom, by the consent of his bride, ordered the coachman to drive to the same tavern where the treacherous pair had provided their wedding dinner, and in they popped upon them just as the first dish was brought upon the table; the daughter was ready to faint thro' fear, the bridegroom bit his nails through madness; the mother up­braided the quondum lover with base­ness, her daughter with undutifulness; the elder brother taxed the younger with treachery, whilst the greatest win­ner smiled in his sleeve, to think that at one lucky hit he had made his for­tune.

When their passions, as well as their victuals, were grown pretty cool, the youngest bridgroom, who was a man of eloquence, made a pleasant speech that unriddled the whole mystery, and went so far in the reconciliation of all differences, that they sat down to [Page 63]victuals, and made one dinner serve for both weddings: The elder brother at last submitting to call the younger father, and the mother acknowledged the elder to be her son. So that by the help of mirth and wine they became all friends: and each lived comfortably for the future, with their own proper mates: and in process of time hammered out such a promiscuous progeny that would puzzle the herald's office properly to distinguish what relation they were to one another.

The dying wife's revenge; or, The hus­band paid in his own coin.

A FARMER's wife falling danger­ously ill, was very importunate with her husband, that he would grant her the liberty of making a will to dispose of her wearing apparrel. The good man, that his wife might go out of the world with a safe conscience, seem­ed very willing to comply with her re­quest; and that she might be sure every thing should be bequeathed according to her own directions. She thanked him heartily for this last kindness, acknow­ledging [Page 64]how good a man he had always been to her and hoped he would ever prosper when she was under ground, for his love and tender usage, both to her and her children, and so begged him to fetch pen, ink, and paper, and she would give him instructions. Away went the good man, at his wife's re­quest, to muster up the materials; but before he returned had the wit to con­sider it was a hard case, that her clothes, which were very neat and good, should be given to a parcel of gossips, away from her own children; and withal formed a project, as he thought, so to deceive his wife, that she might die in peace, and yet save her apparel from the thankless hands of a parcel of tip­pling tittle tattles. When he had thus prepared himself, he returns with the scribbling instruments to his wife's bed side, desiring her freely to impart her mind, promising that all things should be perfor med accordingly; upon which she began her instructions after the following manner, viz. "In the first place, give unto my beloved friend and neighbour, goody Blowzen, my high crowned hat, and best red petticoat, [Page 65]for she has been always ready to go and come upon all occasions both to me and mine. The good man, instead of mentioning the benefit, writes, Tittle tattle for that; and then desired his wife to proceed. "In the next place, says she, I give and bequeath to my gammer Dowdy, my wedding gown and smock, for she is a merry dame, and has made us all laugh many a jun­ket." The good man writes, Tittle tattle for that; and then defires the next item," Lastly, says she, I give and bequeath my great clasped Bible, and my Whole Duty of Man to my dame Camwell, for she is a religious woman, of whom I have learned more good over a jug of strong beer, than ever I did of the parson, for all the tithes we have given him; and that is all, I desire to dispose of from you. "Very well," replies the good man, and again, instead of the last item, sets down a Tittle tattle for that. Well, wife, says he, now all things are or­dered according to your mind, I hope, you will die satisfied." "Yes yes, says she, I thank you, my dear and [Page 66]loving husband. I bless God I can give up my ghost with a peaceful conscience. Pray, stick the will up in the window, and then you may go and fother the cattle." The good man, according to his wife's direction, left the paper in the window; and after he had given her a comfortable word or two, away he went about his business. No sooner was his back turned, but in came one of her gossiping legatees, to pay her a visit; who entering the chamber, thus accosted the sick woman, viz. "How d'ye now, Neighbour? I hope, by the grace of God, you find yourself on the mending hand." "No, truly. Dame, answers the dying gammer, I am not a woman of this world; I find, by the weakness of my lungs and the faint­ness of my speech, I have but a short time to tarry among you. But however, as you have been a good friend and neighbour, I have left you something to remember me when I am gone. My husband, whom you know has been al­ways a kind and a loving man to me, has given me leave to dispose of my wearing clothes among you, and has writ my will with his owe hand: yon­der [Page 67]it stickes in the window. Neighbour, you, I know, can read written hand; if you please to look into it, you may see what legacy I have left you.

With that gammer Dowdy opens the unlucky testament, and discovers the waggery "Alas!" Neighbour, says she, your husband has only jested with you, he has writ dowo nothing but tittle tattle for that, tittle tattle for that, and tittle tattle for that." "Has he served me so, cries the sick dame, now I am going out of the world? Pray, neigh­bour, stick it up where you found it; I hope for all this, to live long enough to be even with him. Pray, neighbour, leave me a little to myself, for I expect my husband in every minute; and I have something to say to him, that is not proper for any body to hear." So the gossip shed a tear or two at parting, and, according to the others request, took her leave for the present. By and by in comes the good man, and hob­bling up to the sick wife's chamber, asked her how she did? who answered, as if she was just expiring, "O very bad; not a woman for this world: and therefore she had two or three dying [Page 68]requests to him, which she hoped, he would particularly observe when she was gone to her last home." Yes, that he would, to be sure, he most faithfully promised, desiring her to speak her mind freely, that he might know what they were, "In the first place, says she, I would have you to take particular care of my son Robin, and breed him up to reading and writing, that when he is a scholar good enough, he may be bound apprentice to a mereer: And as for my son Ralph, I would have you breed him up to your own business, husbandry: And as for my daughter Joan, I would have you keep her at home; to milk the kine and look after the diary: But as to the red-headed girl (whom she knew to be her hus­band's favourite) I say, as to her, you need not take much care, because— "Because what? says Roger, in a mighty passion, why not take care of her?" "Because, replies the dying dame, she is none of yours." "Adsheartily wounds, cries Roger, none of mine, you wicked baggage you, whose is she then?" Tittle tattle for that, cries the good [Page 69]wife, tattle for that knave, tittle tattle for that cuckold:" and so she died.

The wilful drunkard, Or, the-Shoe-ma­ker made a cuckold by the devil.

A Jolly Crispin having a confounded scold to his wife, happened to come home one night, at a late hour very much troubled with a drunken vertigo in his noddle. He had no sooner enter­ed the shop, but his angry help-mate, in a mighty passion for his offence, be­gan to spit out such provoking messes of maundering broth, in the very teeth of her pot valiant spouse, that he swore, [Page 70]"Since he could not be quiet at home, he would return from whence he came, and spend the rest of the night, where he could be more easy." She still persisted in her termagent spirit, and very ag­gravating words were tossed backwards and forwards, till at last the difference grew too great for any present recon­ciliation. A chimney sweeper coming by, who had pawned his brooms for an evenings draught, over-hearing their course compliments, stood a little under the eves to listen to the fray. The shoe-maker at last grew so highly en­raged, that he swore he would go out again: and wrenched open the door in spite of his wife's resistance, out he went, and away he staggered, she baw­ling after him in these words viz. "Go, and be hang'd, you rogue, since you will go, and may the devil go with you." The chimney sweeper, when he heard the door open skuttled away a little before the shoe-maker, and stepped up into an alley till Crispin was gone past him; then flinging his sooty sack which he had upon his shoulder over his head like a hood that he might make the more unusual figure, he [Page 71]trudged after the shoe-maker, till he got just upon the heels of him. Crispin hearing somebody come ratteling after, faced about, and by the light of the stars discovered a strange black monster just at his very nose. "Who are you?" says the shoe-maker. "The devil. cries the chimney sweeper, "Pray, Mr. De­vil, says Crispin, what want you with me?" "Your wife sent me after you, cries the chimney sweeper, to fetch you home?" "Home, cries Crispin, Pray Mr. Devil, to which home; your home or my home?" To your home answers the chimney sweeper. "Then by all the shoes in my shop says Crispin, I will not go, except you will first carry my wife to your home, and then I'll go home presently." "Done says the chimney sweeper, stay you here till I return, and I'll pack her off for you instantly." "Done cries the shoe-maker, do you perform your work, and I'll perform my word." Away runs the chimney sweeper to the shoe-maker's house in St. Mar­tins, knocks at the door, to which comes the wife in her smock, expecting it was her husband: The chimney sweeper, for fear of frightning her, pre­sently [Page 72]discovers himself, and tells her what a trick he had put upon her husband, and upon what errand her spouse had sent him; and that if she would but first let him make him a cuckold, he would engage to make him a good husband forever after. Upon this condition the wife consented; and the business being done with a jirk, he gave her directions how she should ma­nage the matter, and returned again to shoemaker, who waited with great impatience to hear the success. "Well, says Crispin to the devil, as he thought, have you done the business?" "Ay, ay, says the chimney sweeper, effectually, therefore make haste home, for I forgot to shut the door after me." How did she behave herself? says Crispin, did she not scold damnably?" "Confoundedly, cries the chimney sweeper; she has already put hell in an uproar, and how long we shall be able to keep her there the Lord knows." "Wounds, says the shoe-ma­ker, good devil, keep her now thou hast her, for if you let her come back again, I will certainly hang myself." So bidding each other farewell, away went Crispin with great joy to his own house: where [Page 73]the door was let a jar, and the wife stood hid in a closet, above stairs ac­coring to the chimney sweeper's direc­tions Crispin when he had made all fast and secure, went up to the room where he used to sleep, comforting him­self with the great kindness the devil had done him; and sitting down upon the bed side, began to undress, making himself merry with a piece of an old ballad, which he thought very appli­cable to his present happiness, viz.

Upon these words out bolts his wife upon him from the closet, with her hair about her ears like a fury and her smock as black with the chimney sweepers smuggling her, as if herself had been the devil crying out "You lie, you rogue, I defy the devil and all his works, I will make you know, Sirrah, there is never a devilin hell can master me, I am set on it; you may see by [Page 74]my pickel, I was forced to struggle hard to overcome Satan, and since I have conquered the devil. I am resolved I will master you. The poor shoe-maker in the midst of his jollity, was so sadly cowed at his tormentor's ap­pearance, that he was forced to cry parley, and acknowledge his wife was master both of Satan and him, for he could have no power over her So up­on Crispin's submission, his tongue teasing fury put on a clean smock in order to invite her cozened Cuckold to the buttered bun, which the chimney sweeper devil had left him for his sup­per, and then tumbled into bed, where all past differe [...]es were reconciled by the matrimonial peace-maker.

The dead man's resurrection; or the Judge buried alive in his own Cellar.

ONE of the judges in king Charles the second's reign, being in the long va­cation at his country house in Holsworth in Suffolk happened upon too serious re­flection on some little juvenal miscarriages to fall into a deep fit of the hypocondria insomuch that he fancied himself to be [Page 75]dead, and was so very obstinate under the influence of his whimsical distemper that he would not be persuaded to stir hand or foot, or receive any manner of sustenance, but what was forced down his throat by syringes, or such like strat­agems, till he had brought his body into so low a condition, that had a lighted candle been in his belly, his sides would have proved as a lanthorn; In this stub­born frenzy, he lay upon his back, stret­ched out at his full length like a corps, and as motionless as a stone figure upon an old tomb, neither his physician nor his fa­mily knowing what was to do with him. A famous High German doctor coming into the town, attended with a pack of fools and rope dancers, in order to pick the country people's pockets of a little money, hearing of so eminent a person un­der this unaccountable indisposition took occasion, the first time that he mounted the public theatre, to mention this matter to his country chubs, who were giving great attention to all the lies he could muster up to his advantage telling them, "Their country physicians, were all fools and that the judge was only troubled with the mulligrubs, and that if his lady [Page 76]would send for him, he would undertake to bring him to speech, set him upon his legs, make him walk, talk, eat, drink, piss shite, or do any thing in four and twenty hours time, or else he would de­sire nothing for his trouble." This large promise of the mountebank was soon communicated to the judge's lady who being a tender wife to her husband, and willing to try every thing that might do him good, sent immediately for the Dutch tooth-drawer, to consult him about the matter; who told her positively, "He could soon cure him, if she should pro­mise, he should have a hundred guineas reward provided he had leave without in­terruption, to do as he should think fit." The lady assured him, "He should have all the liberty he desired to work the cure, and the reward he asked when he had performed it." Both parties being agreed, the doctor sent his man for a joiner and a coffin, as soon as the one had brought the other, up stairs they went, for the doctor would not see his patient before he had got his tools rea­dy. When every thing was in order, in goes the doctor and lady, the rest tarried without, till called for.

[Page 77] No sooner had the doctor cast an eye upon his sullen patient, but he pre­sently cries out to the lady, "Lord, Madam what mean you to send for a physician to the dead man? For shame, keep him not above ground any longer. Upon my word madam, he has been dead so long that he sti [...]ks again, and if you don't bury him quickly, the very sc [...]nt of his corps will breed a plague in your family:" "I have had a coffin in the house some time, replied the lady, but was loth to have him buried too s [...]on, for fear he should come to life again." " [...]y all means, says the doctor let it be brought in, and order him to be nailed up with all expedition." "Pray do [...]or, says the lady do you stay a lit­tle in the room, for fear the rats should gnaw the co [...]ps and I'll step and order some of my servants to bring in the coffin presently." The patient heard all this, and was still too humoursome to break his silence; by and by comes the lady, and her servants after with the c [...]ffin, who sat it down by the bed side, and then according to the doctor's di­rection, wrapt their master up in a [Page 78]couple of warm blankets and into the coffin they very orderly laid him, put on the lid, and made a hammering o­ver his head, as if they were nailing him up, he endured all without either word or motion: and when he was thus enclosed, they ordered the great bell of the church to ring out, that he might think, they were bearing him to his last home the grave: instead of which they carried him down into his own wine cellar where they s [...]t some­body to watch by him, till a good sup­per was got ready; in the interim the doctor ordered his lady and her servants so to disguise themselves in winding sheets, and such like dresses, that would best represent a parcel of ghosts or spirits, the doctor making one amongst them; when they were thus equipped, the doctor led the van of the hobgoblins, and into the cellar they went, where they altered their voices as much as possible, and fell into a merry extrava­gant chat, concerning the affairs of the upper world, rattling the bottles and the glasses, extolling their happiness after death, and drinking to the remembrance of those friends they had left behind, [Page 79]the cloth being laid, in a little time down came supper, which they f [...]ll to with all the seeming jollity imaginable.

As they were thus merrily eating and carousing, "What's the matter, says the doctor, with that melancholy ghost, that he does not rise out of his coffin? He has been among us this fortnight, and he has not yet given us any of his company: sure he is sadly tired with his journey out of the other world, for he has had a plaguy long sleep after it: Prithee awake him, and ask him to eat a bit with us, for he has had no refresh­ment since he has been in the Elizium." With that one of the most frightful of the spectres with a taper in his hand, opens the lid of the coffin, and hallooing in his ears, "Mog Damnum Huggle Duggle, deputy governor of the lower regi [...]ns desires your company to supper with him" Upon which he raises his head to the edge of the coffin, and be­holding such a parcel of frightful fig­ures feeding as heartily as so many ploughmen; "Pray, says he, do dead men eat?" "Aye, aye, and drink too, says the doctor, or how should they live else?" "Then, says the judge, if [Page 80]e [...]ing [...]e the custom of this country, I wil [...] make my r [...]su [...]e i [...]n, and pick a [...]i [...] [...]i [...]h you." [...] a hand, and [...]o [...]u [...]d hi [...] [...] a seat at the table [...] s [...]s [...] [...] [...]am [...] [...]l [...]d t [...]n [...]d [...]at dead [...]en [...] so merrily." " [...]ll may we be so m [...]r [...]y, cri [...] the do [...]or, for we live better here without money, than men in the other world can for a thousand pound a year; for in short, we have every thing and that for nothing." The Judge, who was a great lover of a li [...]tle shoulder of mut­ton, which his lady remembering, had got one ready at the fire asked them, "if that country afforded any mutton?" "the best, r [...]pl [...]es the doctor, in all the three worlds: Here fetch a hot should­er presently; which by one of the ghostly attendants, was done immediat­ely; at which unexpecting sight, the Judge was so well pleased, that he fell to and eat heartily.

Wh [...]n supper was over, they drank a cheerful glass to the memory of all, their particular friends over their head till at la [...] he patient (being much weakened with long fa [...]ing) grew very much fuddled, so that they turned him [Page 81]again into his wooden territories where he soon fell into a very sound sleep; during which time they carried him up into his own rrom and put him again into his own bed, where he rested very well, and his lady with him, till the next morning about day light; and at last waking, he began to look about him, very strangely surprized, which the lady perceiving, cried "Prithee, my dear, what's the matter with thee?" "Lord love, says he, art thou there? Where are we?" "In your own bed, replies the lady, in your own chamber, in your own house Where do you think we should be?" "Then, says the judge, I have had one of the unac­countablest dreams thas ever was heard of;" and falls to repeating all he had seen over night, "Poh, Poh, says she, never mind such idle whimsies, but think of what you can eat for break­fast." So up got my lady, and provided him something that was comfortable, and from that time he was recovered of his melancholy; so the mountebank had his reward, and the judge sat upon the bench for several years after.