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 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 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, 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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.

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, 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 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 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 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 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 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 〈…〉 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, 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 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, 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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, 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 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 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 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. 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, 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 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 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 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 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 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 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.

Knaves by a rebound are often bit; To bite the biter is not fraud, but wit.

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 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 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 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, 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 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 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 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 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, 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 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 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 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 wife, tattle for that knave, tittle tattle for that cuckold:" and ſo ſhe died.

Thus we may ſee, at the laſt gaſp of life, How ſweet revenge is to an angry wife; If once they're injur'd, ſlighted, flam'd or ſham'd; When dying they'll requite us, tho' they're damn'd: Therefore forbear to vex them, for we find, Like bees they wound, and leave their ſting behind.

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, "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 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 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 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.

I value not ſilver or Gold, Now I am rid of a troubleſome evil; My Wife was a damnable ſcold, But now ſhe has gone to the devil.

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 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 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 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.

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 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, 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 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 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.

Reaſons quite loſt where melancholly rules, The wiſeſt men we ſee ſometimes are fools.

OLD ENGLAND's EPITAPH, HIC jacent England's glory wiſdom, wit, Oh! ſtrange! all raiſed and buried in a Pitt.

GILES JOLT. GILES JOLT as ſleeping in his cart he lay, Some wagg • ſh p • lf'rers ſtole his team away. Giles wakes, and cries—Whats here! Od • buddikns! what! Why how now! am I Giles or am I not! If he, l've loſt ſix geldings to my Smart, If not—Odſbuddikns l've found a cart.

C ••• N OLD LADY'S MARRYING 〈◊〉 YOUTH. HARD is the lot of ev'ry childleſs wife The thoughts of wedlock tantalize her life; Troth, aged bride, in thee 'twas wiſely done, To chuſe a ſon and huſband both in one. FINIS.