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H A R V A R D
C O I, I, E. G. E.
L I B R A R Y






HARVARD
COLLEGE
LIBRARY











v





AMUSING
PROSE char Books
Chiefly of Last Century
Edited by
ROBERT HAYS CUNNINGHAM
J
LONDON: HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO
GLASGOW : THOMAS D. MORISON
1889


Q 52.72.94
-- HARVa., * . -o-, y"
LIBR-ny -
MAY 2 5 1993
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AMUSING
PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.





Amusing
Prose Chap-Books.


EDITORIAL NOTE.
Of late years there has been a largely increasing interest on
the subject of folklore in its various departments. In such
respects there has been a very considerable change in the
feelings and tastes of the educated middle-class population
of this country, from what there was several generations ago.
Formerly the educated classes appeared to think that any-
thing relating to the tastes or ideas of the common people was
of very little interest. And in the course of some two
hundred years back, leaving out the present time, the num-
ber of writers who thought it worth their while to deal with
such topics were not much more than a dozen in number,
including such men as Aubrey, Bourne, Brand, Hone,
Strut, Halliwell, etc. Now, all that is changed, and it has
been discovered that much of extreme interest can be
learned from the superstitions, habits, beliefs, tastes, customs,
ideas, amusements, and general social life of the uneducated
or lower classes of previous times.
Not the least interesting or least important of the
many sources from which information on these and similar
matters, can be obtained, is • that of the people's earliest
popular literature—namely, the chap-book. Beginning at
little after the commencement of the eighteenth century,
and continuing for over a hundred years afterwards, right
up to the general introduction and use of cheap magazines
and cheap newspapers, the chap-book was almost the only
kind of reading within the reach of the poorer portion of
the nation.
What adds greatly both to the interest attaching to the
chap-book literature and to its importance, is the fact, that
these literary productions, if they may be so termed, were


6 EDITORIAL NOTE.
almost entirely written by the people themselves; that is,
they were written by the people for the people. This fact
intensifies the conviction that they give a true and unvar-
nished description of the lower orders and their ways. Then,
as now, every district had its proportion of local geniuses,
who had a gift above their fellows in the matter of story-
telling, or some other such way. And in many instances
these narratives became chap-books, and were printed and
reprinted times without number at the various printing
establishments over the country devoted to business of
that description.
With regard to this feature in chap-book literature
already referred to—namely, that it was composed by the
people for the people, and thus gives a true portraiture of
many features in their social life—still more may be said.
It being the case that not a few of those who hawked these
cheap volumes over the country were themselves the
authors of some of them, and in the composition of the
chaps, to a considerable extent, just reproduced circum-
stances, incidents, and narratives that they had met with in
their wanderings over the country.
""" To a. very marked degree was this the case in the most
prominent of all the Scottish chap-book writers—namely,
Dougal Graham. See his works, two volumes octavo, col-
lected and edited by George MacGregor in 1883. It would
appear that at an early period of Graham's peregrinations
he accompanied Prince Charlie's army in 1745-46 through-
out its various fortunes, pursuing his trade as a hawker of
sundry articles that might be in demand by the prince's
retainers. After that event was over, Graham continued the
calling of hawker and chapman, at the same time becoming
the author of a number of chap-books. But after a while he
got a step or two further on; for, finding such an immense
demand for his extremely amusing, though coarse, volumes,
he ultimately set up a printing press of his own, for the


EDITORIAL NOTE.
purpose of producing bis chaps and supplying the chapmen
with them, by whom they were spread broadcast over the
country. The knowledge of su«i instances as this lends
much additional value to the cbap-book, as containing a for-
cible description of the social life and ideas of the masses in
former times.
A slight study of this department of literature will show
that there was, then as now, much variety in the tastes of
the people. And we also find that in this respect the
various tastes could be fairly well met from among the
stores of the chap-book publisher. In these days, j ust as at
the present time, there had been any amount of enterprise
on the part of authors and publishers in furnishing readers
with whatever their fancy might desire. The Litteratura
.Vulgi may be fairly well divided into the following or
similar classifications :—Historical, biographical, religious,
romantic, poetical, humorous, fabulous, supernatural, dia-
bolical, legendary, superstitious, criminal, jest-books, etc.
The strictly religious appear to be the fewest in number.
The supernatural and the superstitious elements appear to
have been more in demand, as the supply of such classes
seems to have been greater,—in these days the marvellous
had evidently very great charms. The .romantic likewise
had been in great request,—the old romances handed down
from the days long before printing was invented continued up
till last century to be of undiminished interest. Also, from
the number of poetical chaps that have come down to us, it
is evident that the demand for them had been great all over
the country. The most popular of all, however, appears to
have been the humorous section, which again might be sub-
divided into a variety of departments, each with numerous
representatives. The love of fun and frolic was apparently
as deeply implanted in the feelings and tastes of previous
generations as of the present.
Printing establishments devoted to the production of


8 EDITORIAL NOTE.
chap-books were pretty well scattered all over the country
In England the principal places appear to have been London,
York, Birmingham, and Newcastle. In Scotland, the towns
of Glasgow, Stirling, Falkirk, and Montrose appear to have
carried off the palm in that respect. In Ireland there had
been few places besides Dublin and Belfast.'
The immense volume of business done in the production
of the chap-book, and its importance as an article of trade
all over the country, has been a matter of surprise; and the
more one investigates into the facts of the case, the more is
one impressed with the magnitude of the institution. It
appears to have given employment to many thousands of
chapmen and printers' employees. As an instance of the
profits derivable from the business as an article of trade, one
publisher of chap-books, and that not in an especially large
i way, is known to have retired with accumulated profits
amounting to £30,000, which in these days would represent
a much larger sum than it does now.
Notwithstanding the immense quantities of chap-books
circulated broadcast over the country, comparatively early
copies are now extremely rare. And the desire on the part of
the public for their possession is now so great that about sixty
times their original price is readily given—that is, what
originally was sold for one penny, now frequently fetches five
shillings, and sometimes more.
In the present collection, which is chiefly of last century,
the reader will find considerable variety, containing as it
does interesting specimens of several classes or divisions of
the popular literature, mostly, however, of an amusing and
humorous nature; and from the perusal of the majority of
the chaps herein contained, a good deal of entertainment
may be derived.
As a companion volume, it is the Editor's intention to
issue shortly a collection of Amusing Poetical Chap-
Books.


CONTENTS.
The Comical History of the paoe
KING AND THE COBBLER
Containing the Entertaining and Merry Tricks and Droll Frolics
played by the Cobbler, how he got acquainted with the King,
became a Great Man and lived at Court ever after, - - 13
The Merry Tales of the
WISE MEN OF GOTHAM, 23
The History of
THOMAS HICKATHRIFT, 35
The History of
JACK THE GIANT-KILLER
Containing his Birth and Parentage; His Meeting with the'
King's Son; His Noble Conquests over many Monstrous
Giants; and his rescuing a Beautiful Lady, whom he after-
wards married, - 63
SIMPLE SIMON'S MISFOETUNES
AND HIS
WIFE MARGERY'S CRUELTY
Which began the very next Morning after their Marriage, - 69
The Adventures of
BAMFYLDE MOORE CAREW,
Who was for more than forty years King of the Beggars, - - 78


10 CONTENTS.
The Comical Sayings of paoe
PADDY FROM CORK
With his Coat Buttoned behind, being an Elegant Conference
between English Tom and Irish Teague; with Paddy's
Catechism, and his Supplication when a Mountain Sailor, - 95
The History or
DICK WHITTINGTON
AND HIS CAT, 117
The Mad Pranks or
TOM TRAM.
Son in Law to Mother Winter; to which are added his Merry
Jests and Pleasant Tales, 127
/ A Yobk Dialogue Between
NED AND HARRY:
Or Ned giving Harry an Account of his Courtship and Marriage
State, 141
DANIEL OROURKE'S WONDERFUL
VOYAGE TO THE MOON. iso
MOTHER BUNCH'S CLOSET
NEWLY BROKE OPEN;
Containing Rare Secrets of Nature and Art, tried and experienced
by Learned Philosophers, and recommended to all ingenious
young men and maids, teaching them, in a natural way, how
to get good wives and husbands. Approved by several that
have made trial of them; it being the product of forty-nine
years' study. By our loving Friend Poor Tom, for the King,
a lover of Mirth but a hater of Treason. In Two Parts, • 159
The Comical History or the
COURTIER AND TINKER, ire


CONTENTS. 11
The History of the page
FOUR KINGS
Of Canterbury, Colchester, Cornwall, and Cumberland, their
Queens and Daughters; being the Merry Tales of Tom
Hodge and his School-Fellows, 187
THE PENNY
BUDGET OF WIT
AND PACK AG E OF DROLLERY, 200
The Merry Conceits of
TOM LONG THE CARRIER,
Being many Pleasant Passages and Mad Pranks which he ob-
served in his Travels. Full of Honest Mirth and Delight, - 219
The Story of
, BLUE BEARD
Or the Effects of Female Curiosity, - 230
The Life of
MANSIE WAUCH
Tailor in Dalkeith, 236
The Life and Astonishing Adventures of
PETER WILLIAMSON
Who was carried off when a Child from Aberdeen and sold for a
Slave, ----------- 264
The Famous Exploits of
ROBIN HOOD,
LITTLE JOHN, AND HIS MERRY MEN ALL,
Including an Account of his Birth, Education, and Death, - - 269


12 CONTENTS.
History of page
DR. FAUSTUS
Showing his wicked Life and horrid Death, and how he sold him-
self to the DeviLjto bave power for twenty-four years to do
what he pleased, also.many strange things done by him with
the assistance of \
MEPHISTOPHELES,
With an account how the Devil came for him at the end of
twenty-four years, and tore him to pieces, - 286
The Whole Life and Death of
LONG MEG
Of Westminster, 299
The Famous History of the Learned
FRIAR BACON
Giving a Particular Account of his Birth, Parentage, with the
many Wonderful Things he did in his Lifetime, to the
amazement of all the Wdrld, 309
The History of
. THE BLIND BEGGAR
OF BETHNAL GBEEN,
Containing his Birth and Parentage ; how he went to the Wars
and Lost his Sight, and turned Beggar at Bethn.il Qreen;
how he got Riches, and educated his Daughter; of her being
Courted by a rich, young Knight; how the Blind Beggar
dropt Gold with the Knight's Uncle; of the Knight and the
Beggar's Daughter being Married; and, lastly, how the
famous Pedigree of the Beggar was discovered, and other
Things worthy of Note, 324
The Pleasant History of
POOR ROBIN
THE MERRY SADDLER OF WALDEN
Showing the Merry Pranks he played during his Apprenticeship,
and how he Tricked a Rich Miser, etc. Very diverting for
a Winter Evening Fireside, - - - - . . . 337


Amusing
Prose Chat.Books.
THE
COMICAL HISTORY
OF THE
KING AND THE COBBLER
CONTAINING
The Entertaining and Merry Tricks and Droll Frolics
played by the Cobbler
How he got acquainted with the King,
became a Great Man and lived at Court ever after.
Chapter I.
How King Henry VIII. used to visit the watches in the city
and how he became acquainted with a
merry, jovial cobbler.
It was the custom of King Henry the Eighth to walk late in
the night into the city disguised, to observe and take notice
how the constables and watch performed their duty, not only
in guarding the city gates, but also in diligently watching
the inner parts of the city, that so they might, in a great


14 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
measure, prevent those disturbances and casualties which
too often happen in great and populous cities in the night;
and this he did oftentimes, without the least discovery who
he was, returning home to Whitehall early in the morning.
Now, on his return home through the Strand, he took
notice of a certain cobbler who was constantly up at work
whistling and singing every morning. The king was resolved
to see him and be acquainted with him, in order to which he
immediately knocks the heel off his shoe by hitting it against
a stone, and having so done, he bounced at the cobbler's
stall.
"Who's there ?" cries the cobbler.
"Here's one," cries the king. With that the cobbler
opened the stall door, and the king asked him if he could
put the heel on his shoe.
"Yes, that I can," says the cobbler; "come in, honest
fellow, and sit thee down by me and I will do it for thee
straight," the cobbler scraping his awls and old shoes to one
side to make room for the king to sit down.
The king being hardly able to forbear laughing at the
kindness of the cobbler, asked him if there was not a house
hard by that sold a cup of ale and the people up.
"Yes," said the cobbler, "there is an inn over the way,
where I believe the folks are up, for the carriers go from
thence very early in the morning."
With that the king borrowed an old shoe off the cobbler
and went over to the inn, desired the cobbler would bring
his shoe to him thither as soon as he had put on the heel
again. The cobbler promised he would; so making what
haste he could to put on the heel, he carries it over to the
king, saying, " Honest blade, here is thy shoe again, and I
warrant thee it will not come off in such haste again."
"Very well," says the king; "what must you have for
your pains?"
"A couple of pence," replied the cobbler.


COMICAL HISTORY OK THE KINO AND THE COBBLER. 15
"Well," said the king, "seeing thou art an honest merry
fellow, there is a tester for thee; come, sit down by me, I
will drink a full pot with thee; come, here's a good health to
the king."
"With all my heart," said the cobbler, " I'll pledge thee
were it in water."
So the cobbler sat down by the king and was very merry,
and drank off his liquor very freely; he likewise sung some
of his merry songs and catches, whereat the king laughed
heartily and was very jocund and pleasant with the cobbler,
telling him withal that his name was Harry Tudor, that he
belonged to the court, and that if he would come and see
him there, he would make him very welcome, because he was
a merry companion, and charged him not to forget his name,
and to ask any one for him about the court and they would
soon bring him to him; "For," said the king, "I am very
well known there."
Now the cobbler little dreamt that he was the king that
spake to him, much less that the king's name was Harry
Tudor. Therefore, with a great deal of confidence, he stands
up and puts off his hat, makes two or three scrapes with his
foot and gives the king many thanks, also telling him that
he was one of the most honest fellows he ever met with in
all his lifetime, and although he never had been at court, yet
he should not be long before he would make a holiday to
come and see him.
Whereupon the king paying for what they had drunk,
would have taken his leave of the cobbler; but he, not being
willing to part with him, took hold of his hand and said,
"By my faith you must not go, you shall not go, you shall
first go and see my poor habitation. I have there a tub of
good brown ale that was never tapped yet, and you must go
and caste it, for you are the most honest blade I ever met
withal, and I love an honest merry companion with all my
heart."


16 . AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Chapter II.
How the cobbler entertained the king vn, his cellar, and
of the disturbance they had like to have had
by his wife Joan.
So the cobbler took the king with him over the way, where
he had his cellar adjoining the stall, which was handsomely
and neatly furnished for a man of his profession. Into the
cellar he took the king. "There," said he, "sit down, you are
welcome; but I must desire you to speak softly, for" fear of
waking my wife Joan, who lies hard by (showing the king
a close bed made neatly up at one corner of the cellar, much
like a closet), for if she should wake she will make our ears
ring again." \
At which speech of the cobbler the king laughed and
told him he would be mindful and follow his directions.
Whereupon the cobbler kindled up a fire and fetched out
a brown loaf, from which he cut a lusty toast, which he sat
baking at the fire; then he brought out his Cheshire cheese.
"Now," says he, "there is as much fellowship in eating as in
drinking."
Which mude the king admire the honest freedom of the
cobbler. So having eaten a bit the cobbler began. "A
health to all true hearts and merry companions;" at which
the king smiled, saying, "Friend, I'll pledge thee."
In this manner they ate and drank together till it was
almost break of day; the cobbler being very free with his
liquor, and delighting the king with several of his old stories,
insomuch that he was highly pleased with the manner of his
entertainment; when, on a sudden, the cobbler's wife Joan
began to awake. "I'faith," says the cobbler, "you must
begone, my wife Joan begins to grumble, she'll awake pre-
sently, and I would not for half the shoes in my shop she
should find you here. J
Then taking the king fly the hand, he led hin up the


COMICAL HISTORY OF THE KING AND THE COBBLEB. 17
stairs, saying, "Farewell, honest friend, it shan't be long
before I make a holiday to come and see thee at court."
"Thou shalt be kindly welcome," replied the king.
So they parted, the king on his way to Whitehall and the
cobbler to his cellar, and there putting all things to rights
before his wife Joan got up, he went to work again, whistling
and singing as merry as he used to be, being much 'Satisfied.
that he happened on so good and jovial a companion, stjll
pleasing himself in his thoughts how merry he should be
when he came to court. v
Chapter III.
How the cobbler prepared himself to go to court and how
he was set out in the best manner
by his wife Joan.
Now as soon as the king came home, he sent out orders
about the court, that if any one inquired for him by the
name of Harry Tudor, they should immediately bring him
before him, whatever he was, without any further examina-
tion.
The cobbler thought every day a month till he had been
at court to see his new acquaintance, and was troubled how
he should get leave of his wife Joan, for he could not get
without her knowledge, by reason he did resolve to make
himself as fine as he could, for his wife always keeped the
keys of his holiday clothes; whereupon one evening, as they
sat at supper, finding her in a very good humour, he began
to lay open his mind to her, telling her the whole story of
their acquaintance, repeating it over and over again, that he
was the most honest fellow that ever he met withal. "Hus-
band," quoth she, "because you have been so ingenious as to
tell me the whole truth, I will give you leave to make a
holiday, for this once you shall go to court, and I will make
you as fine as I can."
So it was agreed that he should go to court the next day;


18 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
whereupon Juan rose betime the next morning to brush up
her husband's holiday clothes and make him as fine as she
could. She washed and ironed the lace-band, and made his
shoes shine that he might see his face in them; having done
this she made her husband rise and pull off his shirt. Then
she washed him with warm water from head to foot, putting
on him a clean shirt; afterwards she dressed him in his
holiday clothes, pinning his laced band in prim.
Chapter IV.
The cobbler s reception at court with the manner of his
behaviour before the king.
The cobbler being thus set forth, he strutted through the
street like a crow in a gutter, thinking himself as fine as the
best of them all.
In this manner he came to the court, staring on this body
and on that body as he walked up and down, and not
knowing how to ask for Harry Tudor. At last he espied
one as he thought, in the habit of a servant-man, to whom
he made his address, saying—
"Dost thou hear, honest fellow, do you know one Harry
Tudor who belongs to the court?"
"Yes," said the man, "follow me and I will bring you to
him."
With that he had him presently up into the guard cham-
ber, telling one of the yeomen of the guard there was one
that inquired for Harry Tudor.
The yoeman replied: "I know him very well; if you
please to go along with me, I'll bring you to him imme-
diately."
So the cobbler followed the yeoman, admiring very much
the prodigious finery of the rooms which he earned him
through. He thought within himself that the yeoman was
mistaken in the person whom he inquired for; for, said he,
"He whom I look for is a plain, merry, honest fellow, his


COMICAL HISTORY OF THE KING AND THE COBBLER. 19
name is Harry Tudor; we drank two pots together not long
since. I suppose he may belong to some lord or other about
the court?"
"I tell you, friend," replied the yeoman, "I know him
very well, do you but follow me and I shall bring you to
him instantly."
So going forward, he came into the room where the king
was accompanied by several of his nobles, who attended him.
As soon as the yeoman had put up by the arras, he spoke
aloud, "May it please your majesty, here is one that inquires
for Harry Tudor."
The cobbler hearing this, thought he had committed no
less than treason, therefore he up with his heels and ran for
it; but not being acquainted with the several turnings and
rooms through which he came, he was soon overtaken and
brought before the king, whom the cobbler little thought to
be the person he inquired after, therefore in a trembling con-
dition he fell down on his knees, saying—
"May it please your grace, may it please your highness, I
am a poor cobbler, who inquired for one Harry Tudor, who
is a very honest fellow; I mended the heel of his shoe not
long since, and for which he paid me nobly and gave me two
pots to boot; but I had him afterwards to my cellar, where
we drank part of a cup of nappy ale and we were very
merry tiil my wife Joan began to grumble, which put an
end to our merriment for that time; but I told him I would
come to the court and see him as soon as conveniently I
could.
"Well," said the king, "don't be troubled, would you know
this honest fellow again if you could see him?"
The cobbler replied, "Yes; that I will among a thousand."
"Then," said the king, "stand up and be not afraid, but
look well about you, peradventure you may find the fellow
in this company."
Whereupon the cobbler arose and looked wistfully upon


20 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
the king and the rest of the nobles, but it was to little or no
purpose; for, though he saw something in the king's face
which he thought he had seen before, yet he could not be
Harry Tudor, the heel of whose shoe he had mended and
who had been so merry a companion with him at the inn and
at his own cellar.
He therefore told the king he did not expect to find Harry
Tudor among such fine folks as he saw there, but that the
person he looked for was a plain, honest fellow. Adding
withal, that he was sure that did Harry Tudor but know he
wa9 come to court, he would make him very welcome,
"For," says the cobbler, "when we parted he charged me to
come to court soon and see him, which I promised I would,
and accordingly I have made a holiday on purpose to have
a glass with him."
At which speech of the cobbler's the king had much ado
to forbear laughing out, but keeping his countenance as
steady as he could before the cobbler, he spoke to the yeo-
man of the guard.
"Here," said he, "take this honest cobbler down into my
cellar and let him drink my health, and I will give orders
that Harry Tudor shall come to him presently."
So away they went, the cobbler being fit to leap out of
his skin for joy, not only that he had come off so well, but
that he should see his friend Harry Tudor.
Chapter V.
The cobbler's entertainment in the king's cellar.
The cobbler had not been long in the king's cellar, before
the king came to him in the same habit that he had on when
the cobbler mended his shoe; whereupon the cobbler knew
him immediately and ran and kissed him, saying, "Honest
Harry, I have made an holiday on purpose to see you, but I
had much ado to get leave of my wife Joan, who was loath
to lose so much time from my work; but I was resolved to


COMICAL HISTORY OF THE KING AND THE (JOBBLKR. 21
see you and therefore I made myself as fine a(3Nl could; but
I'll tell thee, Harry, when I came to court I was in a peck
of troubles how to find you out; but at last I met with a
man who told me he knew you very well and that he would
bring me to you, but instead of doing so he brought me be-
fore the king, which almost frightened me out of my seven
senses; but faith, I'm resolved to be merry with you now,
since I have met you at last."
"Aye, that we shall," replied the king; "we shall be as
merry as princes."
Now after the cobbler had drunk about four or fivo good
healths, he began to be merry and fell a- singing his old songs
and catches, which pleased the king very much and made
him laugh heartily.
\ When on a sudden several of the nobles came into the
cellar, extraordinary rich in apparel, and all stood uncovered
before Harry Tudor, which put the cobbler into great amaze-
ment at first, but presently recovering himself, he looked
more wistfully upon Harry Tudor, and soon knowing him to
be the king, whom he saw in his presence chamber, though
in another habit, he immediately fell upon his knees
saying—
"May it please your grace, may it please your highness, I
am a poor honest cobbler and mean no harm."
"No, no," said the king, "nor shall receive any here, I
assure you."
He commanded him therefore to rise and be merry as he
was before, and, though he knew him to be the king, yet he
should use the same freedom with him as he did before,
when he mended the heel of his shoe.
This kind speech of the king's and three or four glasses of
wine made the cobbler be in as good humour as before,
falling the king several of his old stories and singing some
'his best songs, very much to the satisfaction of the king
and all his nobles. •


22
y AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
THE
*,
CôBBLER's SONG IN THE KING'S
- CELLAR.
Come let us drink the other pot,
Our sorrows to confound;
We'll laugh and sing before the king,
So let his health go round.
For I am as bold as bold can be,
No cobbler e'er was ruder;
Then here, good fellow, here's to thee,
(Remembering Harry Tudor.)
When I'm at work within my stall,
Upon him I will think;
His kindness I to mind will call,
Whene'er I eat or drink.
His kindness was to me so great,
The like was never known,
His kindness I shall still repeat,
And so shall my wife Joan.
I'll laugh when I sit in my stall,
And merrily will sing;
That I with my poor last and awl,
Am fellow with the king.
But it is more I must confess,
Than I at first did know; -
But Harry Tudor, ne'ertheless,
Resolves it shall be so.
And now farewell unto Whitehall,
I homeward must retire;
To sing and whistle in my stall,
My Joan will me desire.
I do but think how she shall laugh,
When she hears of this thing,
That he that drank her nut-brown ale,
Was England's Royal King.


MERRY TALES OF THE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM.
23
Chapter VI.
How the cobbler became a courtier.
Now the king considering the pleasant humour of the
cobbler, how innocently merry he was and free from any
design; that he was a person that laboured very hard, and
took a great deal of pains for a small livelihood, was pleased,
out of his princely grace and favour, to allow him a liberal
annuity of forty merks a year, for the better support of his
jolly humour and the maintenance of his wife Joan, and that
he should be admitted one of his courtiers, and that he might
have the freedom of his cellar whenever he pleased.
Which being so much beyond expectation, did highly
exalt the cobbler's humour, much to the satisfaction of the
king.
So after a great many legs and scrapes, he returned home
to his wife Joan, with the joyful news of his reception at
court, which so well pleased her that she did not think
much at the great pains she took in decking him for the
journey.
THE MERRY TALES
OF THE
WISE MEN" OF GOTHAM.
Tale L
There were two men of Gotham, and one of them was going
to Nottingham market to buy sheep, and both met together
on Nottingham bridge. "Well met," said one to the other;


24 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
"whither are you going?" said he that came from Notting-
ham. "Marry," said he that was going thither, " I am going
to the market to buy sheep." "Buy sheep!" said the other,
"which way will you bring them home?" "Marry," said
the other, "I will bring them over this bridge." "By Robin
Hood," said he that came from Nottingham, "but thou shalt
not." "By my maid Margery," said the other, "but I will."
"You shall not," said the one. "I will," said the other.
Then they beat their staves one against the other and then
against the ground, as if a hundred sheep had been betwixt
them. "Hold there," said the one. "Beware of my sheep
leaping over the bridge," said the other. "I care not," said
the one. "They shall all come this way," said the other.
"But they shall not," said the one. "Then," said the other,
"if thou makest much ado, I will put my finger in thy
mouth." "A groat thou wilt," said the other. And as they
were in contention, another wise man that belonged to
Gotham, came from the market with a sack of meal on his
horse, and seeing his neighbours at strife about sheep and
none betwixt them, said he, " Ah! fools, will you never learn
wit? Then help me," continued he, "to lay this sack upon
my shoulder." They did so and he went to the side of the
bridge and shook out the meal into the river, saying, "How
much meal is there in my sack, neighbour?" "Marry," said
one, "there is none." "Indeed," replied this wise man,
"even so much wit is there in your two heads, to strive for
what you have not." Now which was the wisest of these
three I leave thee to judge.
Tale II.
i
There was a man of Gotham that rode to the market with
two bushels of wheat, and, lest his horse should be damaged
by carrying too great a burden, he was determined to carry
the corn himself upon his own neck, and still kept riding
upon his horse till he arrived at the end of his journey. I


MERRY TALES OF THE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM. 25
will leave you to judge which was,the wisest, his horse or
himself. *
Tale III.
On a time the men of Gotham fain would have pinned in the
cuckoo that she might sing all the year, and in the midst of
the town they had a hedge made round in compass, and got
n cuckoo and put her into it, and said, "Sing here and thou
slialt lack neither meat nor drink all the year." The cuckoo,
when she found herself encompassed by the hedge, flew
away. "A vengeance on her," said these wise men, "we
did not make our hedge high enough."
Tale IV.
There was a man of Gotham who went to Nottingham
market to sell cheese, and going down the Hill to Nottingham
bridge, one of his cheeses fell out of his wallet and ran down
the hilL "Prithee," said the man, "can you run to the
market alone? I'll now send one after another." Then
laying his wallet down and taking out the cheeses, he
tumbled them down the hill one after another. Some ran
into one bush and some into another. He charged them,
however, to meet him at the market place. The man went
to the market to meet the cheeses and staying till the market
was almost over, then went and inquired of his neighbours
ifjihey saw his cheeses come to the market. "Why, who
should bring them?" says one. '' Marry, themselves," said
the fellow, " they knew the way very well A vengeance on
them, they ran so fast I was afraid they would run beyond
the market; I am sure they are by this time as far as York."
So he immediately rode to York, but was much disappointed.
And to add to it he never found nor heard of one of his
cheeses.
Tale V.
A man of Gotham bought, at Nottingham market, a trevet
of bar iron, and going home with it his feet grew weary with


26 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
the carriage. He set it down and seeing it had three feet
said, "Prithee, thou hast three feet and I but two; thou
shalt bear me home if thou wilt," so he set himself down upon
it and said to it, " Bear me as long as I have done thee, for
if thou dost not thou shalt stand still for me." The man of
Gotham saw his trevet would not move. "Stand still," said
he, "in the mayor's name and follow me if thou wilt and I
can show you the right way." When he went home his wife
asked where the trevet was. He said it had three legs and
he had but two and he had taught him the ready way to
his house, therefore he might come himself if he would.
"Where did you leave the trevet?" said th*e woman. "At
Gotham bridge," said he. So she immediately ran and
fetched the trevet herself, otherwise she must have lost it on
account of her husband's want of wit.
Tale VI.
A CERTAIN smith of Gotham had a large wasp's nest in the
straw at the end of the forge, and there coming one of his
neighbours to have his horse shod, and the wasps being ex-
ceeding busy the man was stung by one of them. The man,
being grievously affronted, said, "Are you worthy to keep
a forge or not, to have men stung with these wasps?" "O
neighbour," said the smith, "be content, and I will put them
from their nest presently." Immediately he took a coulter
and heated it red hot, and thrust it into the straw at the end
of his forge, and set it on fire and burnt it up. Then, said
the smith, "I told thee I'd fire them out of their nest."
Tale VII.
On Good Friday the men of Gotham consulted together what
to do with their white herrings, sprats, and salt fish, and
agreed that all such fish should be cast into a pond or pool
in the midst of the town, that the number of them might in-
crease the next year. Therefore everyone that had any fish


MEIlttY TALES OF THE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM. 27
left did cast them immediately into the pond. "Then," said
one, "I have gotten left so many red herrings." "Well,"
said another, "and I have left so many whitings." Another
cried out, "I have as yet*gotten so many sprats left."
"And," said the last, "I have gotten so many salt fishes,
let them go together in the great pond, without any distinc-
tion, and we may be sure to fare like lords the next year."
At the beginning of the next Lent, they immediately went
about drawing the pond, imagining they should have the
fish, but were much surprised to find nothing but a great
eel. "Ah !" said they, "a mischief on this eel, for he hath
eaten up our fish." "What must we do with him?" said
one. "Chop him in pieces," said another. "Nay, not so,"
said another; "but let us drown him." '" Be it accordingly
so," replied they all. So they went immediately to another
pond and cast the eel into the water. "Lay there," said
these wise men, "and shift for thyself, since you may not
expect help from us." So they left the eel to be drowned.
Tale VIII.
On a time the men of Gotham had forgotten to pay their
rents to their landlord; so one said to the other, "To-morrow
must be pay-day, by whom can we send our money?" So
one said, "I have this day taken a hare and she may carry
it, for she is very quick-footed." "Be it so," replied the rest;
"she shall have a letter and a purse to put our money in,
and we can direct her the way." When the letter was
written and the money put into a purse, they tied them
about the hare's neck, saying, " You must first go to Lough-
borough and then to Leicester, and at Newark is our land-
lord; then commend us to him and there is his due." The
hare, as soon as she got out of their hands, ran quite a con-
trary way. Some said, "Thou must first go to Lough-
borough." Others said, "Let the hare alone, for she can
toll a nearer way than the best of us, let her go."


28 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Tale IX.
A MAN of Gotham, that went mowing in the meadow, found
a large grasshopper. He instantly threw down his scythe
and ran home to his neighbour and said that the devil was
at work in the field, and was hopping among the grass.
Then was every man ready with their clubs, staves, halberts,
and other weapons to kill the grasshopper. When they came
to the place where the grasshopper was, said one to the other,
"Let every man cross himself from the devil, for we will not
meddle with him." So they returned again and said, "We
are blest this day that we went no farther." "O, ye
cowards!" said he that left the scythe in the meadow,
"help me to fetch my scythe." "No," answered they,
"it is good to sleep in a whole skin. It is much better
for thee to lose thy scythe than to mar us all."
Talk X.
On a certain time there were twelve men of Gotham that
went to fish; some waded in the water and some stood on
dry land. In going home, one said to the other, "We
have ventured wonderfully in wading, I pray God that
none of us did come from home to be drowned." "Nay,
marry," said one to the other, "let us see that, for
there did twelve of us come out." Then they told them-
selves and every one told eleven. Said the one to the other,
"There is one of us drowned." Then they went back to the
brook where they'd been fishing, and sought up and down
for him that was drowned, making a great lamentation.
A courtier coming by asked what it was they .sought for
and why they were sorrowful. "Oh," said they, "this day
we went to fish in the brook; twelve of us came out to-
gether and one is drowned." The courtier said, "Tell how
many there be of you." One of them told eleven, but he did
not tell himself. "Well," said the courtier, " what will you
give me and I will find the twelfth man?" "All the


MERRY TALES OF THE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM. 29
money we have got," said they. "Give me the money,"
said he. He began with the first and gave him a stroke
over the. shoulders with his whip, that made him groan,
saying, "Here is one," and so he served them all, and they
groaned at the matter. When he came to the last, he paid
him well, saying, "Here is the twelfth man." "God's
blessings on thee," said they, "for finding our brother."
Tale XI. V'
A man of Gotham, riding along the highway, saw a cheese,
so drew his sword and pricked it with the point in order to
pick it up. Another man who came by alighted, picked
it up and rode away with it. The man of Gotham rides to
Nottingham to buy a long sword to pick up the cheese, and
returning to the place where it did lie, he pulled out his
sword, pricked the ground and said, "If I had had but this
sword I should have had the cheese myself, but now another
has come before me and got it."
Tale XII.
A man in Gotham that did not love his wife, and she having
fair hair he said divers times he would cut it off, but durst
not do it when she was awake, so he resolved to do it when
she was asleep; therefore, one night he took a pair of shears
and put them under his pillow, which his wife perceiving,
said to her maid, "Go to bed to my husband to-night, for
he intends to cut off my hair; let him cut off thy hair and
I will give thee as good a kirtle as ever thou didst see."
The maid did so and feigned herself asleep, which the man
perceiving, cut off her hair, Wrapped it about the shears,
and laying them under the pillow, fell asleep. The maid
arose and the wife took the hair and shears and went to the
hall and burnt the hair. The man had a fine horse that he
loved, and the good wife went into the stable, cut off the hair
of the horse's tail, wrapped the shears up in it and laid them
3


30
AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
under the pillow again.. Her husband, seeing her combing
her head in the morning, marvelled thereat. The girl,
seeing her master in a deep study, said, "What ails the
horse in the stable, he has lost his tail?" The man ran into
the stable and found the horse's tail was cut off; then going
to the bed, he found the shears wrapped up in his horse's
tail. He then went to his wife, saying, " I crave thy mercy,
for I intended to cut off thy hair, but I have cut off my own
horse's tail." "Yea," said she, " self do self have." Many
men think to do a bad turn, but it turneth oftimes to them-
selves.
Tale XIII.
A MAN of Gotham laid his wife a wager that she could not
make him a cuckold. "No," said she, "but I can." "Do
not spare me," said he, "but do what you can." On a time
she had hid all the spigots and faucets, and going into the
b ittsry, set a barrel of broach, and cried to her spouse,
"Pray, bring me a spigot and faucet or else the ale will all
run out." He sought up and down but could not find one.
"Come here then," said she, "and put thy finger in the tap-
hole." Then she called a tailor with whom she made a
bargain. Soon after she came to her husband and brought
a spigot and a faucet, saying, "Pull thy finger out of the tap-
hole, good cuckold. Beshrew your heart for your trouble,"
said she, " make no such bargain with me again."
Tale XIV.
A man of Gotham took a young buzzard and invited four or
five gentlemen's servants to the eating of it; but the wife
killed an old goose, and she and two of her gossips ate up
the buzzard, and the old goose was laid to the fire for the
gentlemen's servants. So when they came the goose was
sot before them. "What is this?".said one of them. The
goodman said, "A curious buzzard." "A buzzard! why.it
is an old goose, and thou art an knave to mock us," and so


-
MERRY TALEs * the wish MEN or gotham. 31.
departed in great ºrger. The fellow was sorry that he
had affronted them and took a bag and put the buzzard's
feathers in it; but his wife de ired him, before he went, to
fetch a block of woºd, and in the interim she pulled out the
buzzard's feathers and put in the goose's. The man, taking
the bag, went to the gentl" men's servants and said, “Pray,
be not angry with me, yºu shall see I had a buzzard, for
here be the feathers.” Then he opened the bag and took
out the goose's feathers; upon which one of them took a
cudgel and gave hin a dozen of stripes, saying, “Why, you
knave, could you rºt be content to mock us at home, but
you are * here to mock us also."
TALE XV.
A MAN's wife of Gotham was brought to bed of a male child,
and the father invited the gossips who were children of eight
or ten years of age. The eldest child's name was Gilbert, the
second's name was Humphrey, and the godmother was called
Christabel. Their relations admonished them divers times,
that they must all say after the parson. And when they
were come to the church, the priest said, “Be you all agreed
of the name 7” “Gilbert, Humphrey, and Christabel,” said
the same. The priest then said, “Wherefore came you
hither?" They immediately said the same. The priest
being amazed could not tell what to say, but whistled and
said, “Whey," and so did they. The priest being angry,
said, “Go home, you fools, go home." Then Gilbert, Humph-
rey, and Christabel did the same. The priest then provided
godfathers and godmothers himself.
TALE XVI,
A Young man of Gotham went a wooing a fair maid: his
mother warned him beforehand, saying, “Wheneveryou look
at her, cast a sheep's eye at her, and say, ‘How dost thou,
my sweet pigmy 7" The fellow went to a butcher and


32 AMUSING ºo:: CHAP-OOKs.
- !
bought seven or eight shep eyes. And when this lusty
wooer was at dinner, he would look upon the fair wench
and cast in her face a sheep's eye, saying, “How dost thou
do, my sweet pigmy 7" “ Hºw do I do” said the wench;
“swine's face, what do you ean by casting a sheep's eye
at me?” “O! sweet pigmy, h we at thee with another.”
“I defy thee, swine's face,” said the wench. “What my
sweet old pigmy, be content, for $f you live to next year
you will be a foul sow.” “Walk, kilºve, walk,” said she,
“for if you live till next year you will be a fool.”
TALE XVII.
THERE was a man of Gotham who would be married, and
when the day of marriage was come they went to the church.
The priest said, “Do you say after me.” The man said “Do
you say after me.” The priest said, “Say not after me such
like, but say what I shall tell you; thou dost play the fool
to mock theeholy scriptures concerning matrimony.” The
fellow said, “Thou dost play the fool to mock the holy
scriptures concerning matrimony.” The priest wist not
what to say, but answered, “What shall I do with this
fool?" and the man said, “What shall I do with this fool!”
So the priest took his leave and would not marry them.
The man was instructed by others how to do, and was after-
wards married. And thus the breed of the Gothamites has
been perpetuated even unto this day. -
TALE XVIII.
THERE was a Scotsman who dwelt at Gotham, and he took
a house a little distance from London and turned it into an
inn, and for his sign he would have a boar's head. Accord-
ingly he went to a carver and said, “Can you make me a
bare head?” “Yes," said the carver. “Then,” said he,
“make me a bare head, and thou'se hae twenty shillings for
thy hire.” “I will do it,” said the carver. On St. Andrew's
day before Christmas (called Yule in Scotland) the Scot



MERRY TALES OF THE WISE MEN OF GOTHAM. 33
came to London for his boar's head. "I say, speak," sa.'d
the Scotsman, "hast thou made me a bare head!" "Yes,'
said the carver. He went and brought a man's head of wood
that was bare, and said, "Sir, there is your bare head."
"Ay," said the Scot, "the meikle de'il! is this a bare head 1"
"Yes," said the carver. "I say," said the Scotsman, "I will
have a bare head like the head that follows a sow with gryces.
What, fool, know you not a sow that will greet and
groan and cry a-week, a-week." "What," said the carver,
"do you mean a pig?" "Yes," said the Scotsman, "let me
have her head made of timber, and set on her a scalp and let
her sing, 'Whip whire.'" The carver said he could not.
"You fool," said he, "gar her as she'd sing whip whire."
Tale XIX.
In old times, during these tales, the wives of Gotham were
got into an alehouse, and said they were all profitable to
their husbands. "Which way, good gossips ?" said the ale-
wife. The first said, "I will tell you all, good gossips, I
cannot brew nor bake, therefore I am every day alike, and
go to the ale-house because I cannot go to church; and in
the ale-house I pray to God to speed my husband, and I
am sure my prayers will do him more good than my labour."
Then said the second, "I am profitable to my husband in
saving of candle in winter, for 1 cause my husband and all
my people to go to bed by daylight and rise by daylight."
The third said, "I am profitable in sparing bread, for I drink
a gallon of ale, and I care not much for meat." The fourth
said, " I am loath to spend meat and drink at home, so I go
to the tavern at Nottingham and drink wine and such other
tiiings as God sends me there." The fifth said, "A man will
ever have more company in another's house than his own,
and most commonly in the ale-house." The sixth said,
'' My husband has flax and wool to spare if I go to other
folk's houses to do their work." The seventh said, "I spare


34 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
j ^/iiy husband's wood and clothes, and sit all day talking at
... 7 oilier folks' fires." The eighth said, "Beef, mutton, and
pork are dear, I therefore take pigs, chickens, cnnies, and
capons, being of a lesser price." The ninth said, "I spare
my husband's soap, for instead of washing once a week, I
wash but once a quarter." Then said the ale-wife, "I keep
all my husband's ale from souring; for as I was wont to
drink it almost up, now I never leave a drop."
Tale XX.
On Ash Wednesday, the minister of Gotham would have a
collection from his parishioners, and said unto them. "My
friends, the time is come that you must use prayer, fasting,
and alms, but come ye to shrift, I will tell you more of
my mind, but as for prayer I don't think that two men
in the parish can say their paternoster. As for fasting, ye
fast still, for ye have not a good meal's meat in the year.
As for aim-deeds, what should they give that have nothing?
In Lent you must refrain from drunkenness and abstain
from drink." "No, not so," said one fellow, "for it is an
old proverb, 'That fish should swim.'" "Yes," said the
priest, " they must swim in the water." "I crave thy mercy,"
quoth the fellow," I thought it should have swam in fine
ale, for I have been told so." Soon after the men of Gotham
came to shrift, and being seven the priest knew not what
penance to give. He said, "If I enjoin you to pray, you
cannot say your paternoster. And it is but folly to make
you fast, because you never eat a meal's meat. Labour hard
and get a dinner on Sunday, and I will partake of it." An-
other man he enjoined to f are well on Monday, and another
on Tuesday, and another on Wednesday, and so on one after
another, that one or other should fare well once in the week,
that he might have part of their meat, on every day during
the week. * And as for your aim-deeds," the priest said,
"ye be but beggars all, except one or two, therefore bestow
your alms on yourselves."
i
i


THE HISTORY OF THOMAS HICKATHRIFT. 35
THE HISTORY
THOMAS HICKATHRIFT
PART THE FIRST.
Chapter I.
Tom's Birth and Parentage.
In the reign of William the Conqueror, having read in
ancient records, there lived in the Isle of Ely, in Cambridge-
shire, a man named Thomas Hickathrift, a poor labourer,
yet he was an honest., stout man, and able to do as much
work in a day as two ordinary men. Having only one son,
he called him after his own name, Thomas. The old man
put his son to school, but he would not learn anything.
It pleased Qod to call the old man aside, and his mother
being tender of her son, she maintained him by her own
labour as well as she could; but all his delight was in the
corner; and he ate as much at once as would serve Tive
ordinary men.
At ten years old he was near six feet high, and three in
thickness; his hand was much like to a shoulder of mutton,
and every other part proportionable; but his great strength
was yet unknown.
Chapter II.
How Thomas Hickathrift a Great Strength
Came to be Known.
Tom's mother, being a poor widow, went to a rich farmer's
house to beg a bundle of straw to shift herself and her son
Thomas. The farmer, being an honest charitable man, bid


36 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
—„ , 1
her take what she wanted. She going home to her son
Thomas, said," Pray go to such a place, and fetch me a bundle
of straw; I have asked leave." He swore he would not go.
"Nay, prithee go," said the good old mother. He again swore
he would not go, unless she would borrow him a cart rope.
She being willing to please him, went and borrowed one.
Then taking up the cart rope, away he went, and coming
to the farmer's house, the master was in the barn, and two
other men threshing.
Said Tom," I am come for a bundle of straw." "Tom," said
the farmer, " take as much as thou can'st carry." So he laid
down his cart rope, and began to make up his bundle. ,
"Your rope, Tom," said they, "is too short," and jeered
him. But he fitted the farmer well for his joke; for when
he had made up his burden, it was supposed to be near a
thousand weight. "But," said they, " what a fool thou art;
for thou can'st not carry the tithe of it." But, however, he
took up his burden, and made no more of it than we do of
an hundred pounds weight, to the great astonishment of
both master and men.
Now Tom's strength beginning to be known in the town,
they would not let him lie basking in the chimney corner,
every one hiring him to work, seeing he had so much
strength, all telling him it was a shame for him to lie idle
as he did from day to day; so that Tom finding them bait
at him as they did, went first to one to work and then to
another.
One day a man came to him, desiring him to bring a tree
home. So Tom went with him and four other men.
Now when they came to the wood they set the cart by
the tree, and began to draw it by pulleys; but Tom seeing
them not able to stir it, said, " Stand aside, fools," and so set
on the one end, and then put it into the cart. "There,"
said he, "see what a man can do!" "Marry," said they,
'that is true indeed."


THE HISTORY OF THOMAS HIOKATHRIFT. 37
Having done, and coming through the wood, they met the
woodman; and Tom asked him for a stick to make his
mother a fire with.
"Aye," says the woodman, "take one."
So Tom took up a bigger than that on the cart, and
putting it on his shoulder, walked home with it faster than
the six horses in the cart drew the other.
Now this was the second instance of Tom showing his
strength; by which time he began to think that be had
more natural strength than twenty common men, and from
that time Tom began to grow very tractable; he would
jump, run, and take delight in young company, and would
ride to fairs and meetings, to see sports and diversions.
One day going to a wake where the young men were met,
some went to wrestling, and some to cudgels, some to
throwing the hammer, and the like.
Tom stood awhile to see the sport, and at last he joined
the company in throwing the hammer: at length he took
the hammer in his hand, and felt the weight of it, bidding
them stand out of the way, for he would try how far he could
throw it.
"Ay," says the old smith, "you will throw it a great way,
I warrant you."
Tom took the hammer, and giving it a swing, threw it
into a river four or five furlongs distant, and bid them go
and fetch it out.
After this Tom joined the wrestlers, and though he had no
more skill than an ass, yet by main strength he flung all he
grasped with; if once he but laid hold they were gone;
some he threw over his head, and others he laid gently down.
He did not attempt to look or strike at their heels, but
threw them two or three yards from him, and sometimes on
their heads, ready to break their necks. So that at last none
durst enter the ring to wrestle with him, for they took
him to be some devil among them.


38 AMUSINO PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Thus was the fume of Tom's great strength spread more
and more about the country.
Chapter III.
How Tom became a Brewer's Servant; Icow he killed a
Giant, and came to be called Mr. Hickathrift.
Tom's fame being spread, no one durst give him an angry
word; for being foolhardy, he cared not what he did, so
that those who knew him would not displease him. At last
a brewer of Lynn, who wanted a lusty man to cany beer to
the Marsh and to Wisbeach, hearing of Tom, came to hire
him; but Tom would not hire himself till his friends
persuaded him, and his master promised him a new suit of
clothes from top to toe, and also that he should be his man;
and the master showed him where he should go, for there
was a monstrous giant who kept part of the Marsh, and
none dared to go that way; for if the giant found them he
would either kill them or make them his servants.
But to come to Tom and his master, Tom did more in one
day than all the rest of his men did in three: so that his
master seeing him so tractable and careful in his business,
made him his head man, and trusted him to carry beer by
himself, for he needed none to help him. Thus Tom went
each day to Wisbeach, a journey of near twenty miles.
Tom going this journey so often, and finding the other
road the giant kept nearer by the half, and Tom having
increased his strength by being so well kept, and improving
his courage by drinking so much strong ale; one day as he
was going to Wisbeach, without saying anything to his
master or any of his fellow servants, he resolved to make the
nearest road or lose his life; to win the horse or lose the
saddle; to kill or be killed, if he met with this giant
.
Thus resolved, he goes the nearest way with his cart, .
flinging open the gates in order to go through; but the giant
soon spied him, and seeing him a daring fellow, vowed to
stop his journey and make a prize of his beer; but Tom


THJfi HISTORY OF THOMao
cared not a groat for him, and the giant met him like a roar-
ing lion as though he would have swallowed him up.
"Sirrnh," said he, "who gave you authority to come this
way? 1 'o you not know that I make all stand in fear of
my sight? and you, like an impudent rogue, must come and
fling open my gates at pleasure. Are you so careless of your
life tL-.a'you do not care what you do? I will make you an
example to all rogues under the sun. Dost thou not see
how many heads hang upon yonder tree that have offended
my laws? Thine shall hang higher than any of them all."
"A tod in your teeth," said Tom, "you shall not find me
like them."
"No," said the giant; "why, you are but a fool if you
come to fight me, and bring no weapon to defend thyself."
Cries Tom, "I have got a weapon here that shall make
you know I am your master."
"Aye, say you so, sirrah," said the giant, and then ran to
his cave to fetch his club, intending to dash his brains out
at a blow.
While the giant was gone for his club, Tom turned his
cart upside down, taking the axle tree and wheel for his
sword and buckler; and excellent weapons they were on
such an emergency.
The giant coming out again began to stare at Tom, to see
him take the wheel in one of his hands and the axle tree in
the other.
"Oh, oh!" said the giant, "you are like to do great things
with those instruments; I have a twig here that will beat
thee, thy axle tree, and wheel to the ground."
Now that which the giant called a twig was as thick as a
mill post; with this the giant made a blow at Tom with
such force as made his wheel crack.
Tom, not in the least daunted, gave him as brave a blow
on the side of the head, which made him reel again.
"What," said Tom, " have you got drunk with my small


...vuSE. Uti Ar-15UUIAS.
beer already ?" The giant recovering, made many hard
blows at Tom; but still as they came he kept them off with
his wheel, so that he received but very little hurt.
In the meantime Tom plied him so well with blows that
sweat and blood ran together down the giant's face, who,
being fat and foggy, was almost spent with fighting so long,
so begged Tom to let him drink, and then he would fight
him again. -
“No,” said Tom, “my mother did not teach me such wit.
Who is fool then 7" Whereupon, finding the giant grew
weak, Tom redoubled his blows till he brought him to the
ground. -
The giant, finding himself overcome, roared hideously,
and begged Tom to spare his life and he would perform any-
thing he should desire, even yield himself unto him and be
his servant. -
But Tom, having no more mercy on him than a dog upon
a bear, laid on him till he found him breathless, and then
cut off his head, after which he went into his cave, and there
found great store of gold and silver, which made his heart
leap for joy.
When he had rummaged the cave, and refreshed himself a
little, he restored the wheel and axle tree to their places, and
loaded his beer on his cart, and went to Wisbeach, where he
delivered his beer, and returned home the same night as
usual.
Upon his return to his master, he told him what he had
done, which, though he was rejoiced to hear, he could not
altogether believe, till he had seen if it were true.
Next morning Tom's master went with him to the place.
to be convinced of the truth, as did most of the inhabitants
of Lynn.
When they came to the place they were rejoiced to find
the giant quite dead; and when Tom showed them the
head and what gold and silver there was in the cave, all of


THE HISTORY OF THOMAS HICKATHRIFT. 41
them leaped for joy; for the giant had been a great enemy
to that part of the country.
News was soon spread that Tom Hickathrift had killed
the giant, and happy was he that could come to see the
giant's cave; and bonfires were made all round the
country for Tom's success.
Tom, by the general consent of the country, took possession
of the giant's cave and riches. He pulled down the cave,
and built himself a handsome house on the spot. He gave
part of the giant's lands to the poor for their common, and
the rest he divided and enclosed for an estate to maintain
him and his mother.
Now Tom's fame was spread more and more through the
country, and he was no longer called plain Tom, but Mr.
Hickathrift, and they feared his anger now almost as much
as they did that of the giant before.
Tom now finding himself very rich, resolved his neighbours
should be the better for it. He enclosed himself a park and
kept deer; and just by his house he built a church, which he
dedicated to St. James, because on that saint's day he killed
the giant.
Chapter IV.
How Tom kept a pack of Hounds, and of his being attacked
by some Highwaymen.
Tom not being used to such a stock of riches, could hardly
tell how to dispose of it; but he used means to do it, for ho
kept a pack of hounds and men to hunt them; and who but
Tdm; he took much delight in sports and exercises, and he
would go far and near to a merry making.
One day as Tom was riding he saw a company at football,
and dismounted to see them play for a wager; but he spoiled
all their sport, for meeting the football, he gave it such a
kick that they never found it more; whereupon they began
to quarrel with Tom, but some of them got little good by it;
for he got a spar, which belonged to an old house that had


42 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
been blown down, with which he drove all opposition before
him, and made a way wherever he came.
After this, going home lata in the evening, he was met by
four highwaymen, well mounted, who had robbed all the
passengers that travelled on that road.
When they saw Tom, and fouud that he was alone, they
were cock sure of his money, and bid him stand and deliver.
"What must I deliver?" cries Tom. , "Your money,
sirrah," said they. "Aye," said Tom, "but you shall give
me better words for it first, and be better armed too."
"Come, come," said they, "we came not here to prate, but
for your money, and money we must have before we go."
"Is it so ?" said Tom; "then get it and take it."
Whereupon one of them made at him with a rusty sword,
which Tom immediately wrenched out of his hand, and
attacked the whole four with it, and made them set spurs
to their horses; but seeing one had a portmanteau behind
him, and supposing it contained money, he more closely
pursued them, and soon overtook them and cut their
journey short, killing two of them and sadly wounding the
other two, who, begging hard for their lives, he let them go,
but took away all their money, which was about two
hundred pounds, to bear his expenses home.
When Tom came home he told them how he had served
the poor football players and the four thieves, which pro-
duced much mirth and laughter amongst all the company.
Chapter V.
Tom meets with a Tinker and of the Battle
they Fought.
Some time afterwards, as Tom was walking about his
estate to see how his workmen went on, he met upon the
skirts of the forest a very sturdy tinker, having a good staff
on his shoulder and a great dog to carry his budget of tools.
So Tom asked the tinker from whence he came and


THE HISTORY OF THOMAS HICKATHRIFT. 43
whither he was going, as that was no highway? Now the
tinker being a very sturdy fellow, bid him go look, what
was that to him? But fools must always be meddling.
"Hold," said Tom, "before you and I part I will make
you know who I am."
"Aye," says the tinker, "it is three years since I had a
combat with any man; I have challenged many a one, but
none dare face me, so I think they are all cowards in this
part of the country; but I hear there is a man lives here-
abouts named Thomas Hickathrift, who has killed a giant,
him I'd willingly see to have a bout with him."
"Aye," said Tom, " I am the man. What have you to say
tome?"
"Truly," said the tinker, "I am very glad we are so
happily met, that we may have one touch."
"Surely," said Tom, "you are but in jest."
"Marry," said the tinker, " but I am in earnest."
"A match," said Tom.
"It is done," said the tinker.
"But," said Tom, " will you give me leave to get me a
twig?"
"Aye," said the tinker, "I hate him that fights with a
man unarmed."
So Tom stepped to a gate and took a rail for a staff. So
to it they fell. The tinker at Tom, and Tom at the tinker,
like two giants. The tinker had a leather coat on, so that
every blow Tom gave him made it roar again, yet the tinker
did not give way an inch till Tom gave him such a bang on
the side of the head that felled him to the ground.
"Now, tinker, where art thou?" said Tom. But the
tinker being a nimble fellow, leaped up again, and gave Tom
a bang, the which made him reel, and following his blows,
took Tom on the other side, which made him throw down
hie weapon and yield the mastery to the brave tinker.
After this Tom took the tinker home to his house, where


44 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
we shall leave them to improve their acquaintance, and get
themselves cured of the bruises they gave each other. And
for a further account of the merry pranks of Tom and the
tinker, the reader is referred to the Second Part, which is
far more entertaining than this.
PART THE SECOND.
Chapter I.
Tom Hickaihrift and the Tinker conquer Ten Thousand
Rebels.
In and about the Isle of Ely, many disaffected persons, to
the number of ten thousand or upwards, drew themselves
together in a body, pretending to contend for their rights
and privileges, which they said had been greatly infringed;
insomuch that the civil magistrates of the country thought
themselves in great danger of their lives.
Whereupon the sheriff by night came to the house of Mr.
Thomas Hickathrift, as a secure place of refuge in so
eminent a time of danger, where he laid open to Mr.
Hickathrift the unreasonableness of the complaint of these
rebels, and begged his protection and assistance.
"Sheriff," said Tom, " what service my brother,5' meaning
the tinker, "and I can perform shall not be wanting."
This said, in the morning, by break of day, with trusty
clubs, they both went out, desiring the sheriff to be their
guide in conducting them to the place where the rebels
were.
When they came there, Tom and the tinker marched
boldly up to the head of them, and demanded the reason
why they disturbed the government? To which they
replied," Thftt their will was their law, and by that only we
will be governed."
"Nay," said Tom, "if it be so, these are our weapons, u*\d
by them ye shall be chastised." These words were no


THE HISTORY. OF THOMAS HICKATHR1FT. 45
sooner out of his mouth, but the tinker and he threw them-
selves both together into the crowd, where with their clubs
they beat down all before them. Nay, remarkable it was,
the tinker struck a tall man upon the neck with such force
that his head flew off and was carried ten yards from him,
and struck tho chief leader with such violence as levelled
him to the ground.
Tom, on the other hand, pressing forward, beat down all
before him, making great havoc, till by an unfortunate blow
he broke his club; yet he was not in the least dismayed, for he
presently seized a lusty, stout, raw-boned miller, and so made
use of him for a weapon, till at last they cleared the field,
that not one of them durst lift up their hand against them.
Shortly after Tom took some of them and exposed them
to public justice; the rest being pardoned at the request of
Tom and the tinker.
Chapter II.
Tom Hickathrift and the Tinker are sent for up to Court;
and of their kind Entertainment.
The king being truly informed of the faithful services per-
formed by these his loving subjects, Tom Hickathrift and
the tinker, he was pleased to send for them and the nobility.
Now after the banquet the king said, "These are my
trusty and well-beloved subjects, men of known courage and
valour, who conquered ten thousand persons who were met
together to disturb the peace of my realm.
According to the characters given of Thomas Hickathrift
and Henry Nonsuch, persons here present, which cannot be
matched in the world; all were it possible to have an army
of 20,000 such, I durst immediately venture to act the part
of great Alexander.
As a proof of my favour, kneel down and receive the order
f knighthood, Mr. Hickathrift; and as for Henry Nonsuch'
. will settle upon him a reward of forty pounds a year
Juring life."
4


46 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
So said, the king withdrew, and Sir Thomas Hickathrift
and Henry Nonsuch, the tinker, returned to their home.
But, to the great grief of Sir Thomas Hickathrift, he found
his mother dead and buried.
CHAPTER III.
Tom, after the Death of his Mother, goes a-wooing; and of
a Trick he served a Gallant, who had offended him.
ToM's mother being dead, and he left alone in a spacious
house, he found himself strange; therefore began to consider
with himself that it would not be amiss to seek a wife; so,
hearing of a rich and young widow in Cambridge, he goes
to her and makes his addresses, and at the first coming she
seemed to show him much favour; but between that and
his coming again she gave entertainment to an airy, brisk,
and young spark that happened to come in while Tom was
there a second time.
He looked very wistfully at Tom, and Tom stared as
fiercely at him again; so at last the young spark began to
abuse Tom with very affronting language, saying he was a
lubberly welp and a scoundrel.
“A scoundrel !” said Tom. “Better sayings would
become you; and if you do not instantly mend your
manners, you will meet with correction.”
At which the young man challenged him; so to the yard
they went—the young man with his sword, and Tom with
neither stick nor staff.
Said the spark, “Have you nothing to defend yourself?
Then I shall the sooner despatch you.”
So he made a pass at Tom, but that he butt by; and then,
wheeling round unto his back, Tom gave him such a nice
kick in the breech as sent the spark like a crow up i
the air, whence he fell upon the ridge of a thatched hous
and came down into a fish-pond, where he had certainly bee
drowned if it had not been for a poor shepherd, who wa


THE HISTORY OF THOMAS H10KATHIUFT. 47
walking by that road, and, seeing him floating on the water,
dragged him out with his hook, and home he returned like a
drowned rat; whilst Tom enjoyed the kind embraces of his
lady.
Chapter IV.
How Tom served Two Troopers, whom the Spark had
hired to beset him.
Now the young gallant vexed himself to think how Tom
had conquered him before his new mistress, so was resolved
on speedy revenge, and, knowing he was not able to cope
with Tom, he hired two lusty troopers, well mounted, to lie
in ambush under a thicket, which Tom was to pass on his
way home, and so accordingly they both attempted to set
upon him.
"How now, rascals!" said Tom; "what would you be
at? Are you indeed so weary of your lives that you so
unadvisedly set upon one who is able to crush you like a
cucumber?" The two troopers, laughing at him, said they
were not to be daunted at his high words. "High words!"
said Tom; "nay, now I will come to action," and so ran
between them, catching them in his arms, horses and men,
as easy as if they had been but two baker's bavins.
In this manner he steered homewards, but, as he passed
through a company of haymakers, the troopers cried, " Stop
him! stop him! He runs away with two of the king's
troopers." But they laughed to see Tom hugging them,
frequently upbraiding them for their baseness, saying he'd
make mince meat of them for crows and jackdaws.
This was a dreadful lecture to them, and the poor rogues
begged he would be merciful to them, and they would dis-
cover the whole plot, and who was the person that employed
them, which they accordingly did, and gained favour in the
sight of Tom, who pardoned them on promise that they
would never be concerned in so villainous an action as that
was for the future.


48
AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Chapter V.
Tom, going to be Married, is set upon by Twenty-one
Ruffians; and of the Havock he made.
In regard Tom had been hindered hitherto by the troopers,
he delayed his visit to his lady and love till the next day,
and, coming to her, he gave her a full account of what had
happened.
She was much pleased at this relation, and received him
with joy and satisfaction, knowing it was safe for a woman
to marry with a man who was able to defend her against any
assault whatever; and so brave a man as Tom was found to be.
The day of marriage being appointed, and friends and
relations invited, yet secret malice, which is never satisfied
but with revenge, had like to have prevented it; for, having
near three miles to go to church, the aforementioned gentle-
man had provided one-and-twenty ruffians to destroy Tom,
for to put them to consternation.
Howbeit, it so happened in a private place, all bolted out
upon Tom, and with a spear gave him a slight wound,
which made his sweetheart shriek out lamentably. Tom
endeavoured to pacify her, saying, "Stand you still, and I
will soon show you some pleasant sport."
Here he catched hold of a broad-sword from the side of
one of the company, and behaved so gallantly with it that
at every stroke he took off a joint. He spared their lives,
but lopped off their legs and arms, that in leas than a
quarter of an hour there was not one in the company but
had lost a limb. The grass was all stained with a purple
gore, and the ground was covered with legs and arms.
His lover and the rest of the company were all this while
standing by and admiring his valour, crying out, "O, what
a sight of cripples has he made in a short time 1"
"Yes," said Tom, " I verily believe that for every drop of
blood I have lost I have made the rascals pay me a limb,
as a just tribute."


THE HISTORY OK THOMAS HICKATHRIFT. 49
This said, he steps to a farmer's house, and hired a
servant, by giving him twenty shillings to carry the several
cripples home to their respective habitations in his cart,
and then posted to church with his love,' when they were
heartily merry with their friends after this encounter.
Chapter VI.
Tom provides a Feast for all the poor Widows in the
adjacent Towns; and how he served an Old
Woman who Stole a Silver Cup.
Now Tom, being married, made a plentiful feast, to which
he invited all the poor widows in the parish, for the sake of
his mother, who had been lately buried.
This feast was carried on with the greatest solemnity,
and, being ended, a silver cup was missing, and being asked
about it they all denied it.
At last, all being searched, the cup was found on an old
woman named Strumbelow. Then all the rest were in a
rage; some were for hanging her, others for chopping the
old woman in pieces for ingratitude to such a generous
benefactor.
But he entreated them all to be quiet, saying they should
not murder a poor old woman, for he would appoint a
punishment for her, which was this:—He bored a hole
through her nose, and put a string in it, and then ordered
her to be stripped; so commanding the rest of the old
women to lead her through all the streets and lanes in
Cambridge, which comical sight caused a general laughter.
This being done, she had her clothes again, and so was
acquitted.
Chapter VII.
Sir Thomas and his Lady are sent for up to Court;
and of what happened at that Time.
Now, tidings of Tom's, wedding was soon raised at court,
insomuch that they had a royal invitation there, in order
that the king might have a sight of his newly-married lady.


50 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Accordingly, they came, and were received with much joy
and triumph.
Whilst they were in the midst of their mirth news was
brought the king by the Commons of Kent that a very
dreadful giant was landed in one of the islands, and had
brought with him a great number of bears, and also young
lions, with a dreadful dragon, upon which he always rode,
which said monster and ravenous beasts had much frighted
all the inhabitants of the said island. And, moreover, they
said, if speedy course was not taken to suppress them in due
time, they would destroy the country.
The king, hearing of this relation, was a little startled;
yet he persuaded them to return home, and make the best
defence they could for the present, assuring them that he
would not forget them, and so they departed.
Chapter VIII.
Tom is made Governor of East Angles, now called the Isle
of Thanet; and of the wonderful Achievements
he there performed.
The king, hearing these dreadful tidings, immediately sat
in council to consider what was best to be done for the
conquering this giant and wild beasts.
At length Tom Hickathrift was pitched upon as being a
stout and bold subject, for which reason it was judged
necessary to make him Governor of that island, which place
of trust he readily accepted ; and accordingly he went down
with his wife and family to take possession of the same,
attended by a hundred and odd knights and gentlemen at
least; they taking leave of him, and wishing him all health
and prosperity.
Many days he had not been there before it was his
fortune to meet this monstrous giant, for thus it was:—Sir
Thomas, looking out at his own window, espied this giant
mounted on a dreadful dragon, and on his shoulder he bore
a club of iron. He had but one eye, which was in the


THK HISTORY OF THOMAS HICKATHBIFT. 51
middle of his forehead, and was as large as a barber's basin,
and seemed like flaming fire, the hair of his head hanging
down like snakes, and his beard liko rusty wire.
Lifting up his eye, he saw Sir Thomas, who was viewing
him from one of the windows of the castle. The giant
then began to knit his brows, and to breathe forth some
threatening words to the Governor, who, indeed, was a little
surprised at the approach of such a monstrous and ill-
favoured brute.
The monstrous giant, finding that Tom did not make
much haste to get down to him, alighted from his
dragon, and chained him to an oak tree, then marched to
the castle, setting his broad shoulders against the corner of
the wall as if he intended to overthrow the whole bulk of
the building at once. Tom, perceiving it, said, "Is this the
game you would be at t Faith, I shall spoil your sport, for
I have a tool to pick your teeth with."
He then took the two-handed sword the king gave
him, down ho went, and, flinging open the gate, he
there finds the giant, who, by an unfortunate slip in his
thrusting, was fallen along, and there lay, not able to defend
himself.
"How now!" said Tom; "do you come here to take up
your lodging? This is not at all to be suffered." And
with that he ran his long broad sword between the giant's
tawny buttocks, and made the brute give a groan almost as
loud as thunder.
Then Sir Thomas, pulling out his sword again, and at six
or seven blows he severed his head, which, when cut off,
poemed like the root of a great oak; then, turning to the
o ragon, which was all this time chained to a tree, without
a iy more ado, at a few blows cut off that also.
This adventure being over, he sent for a waggon and
hcrses, and loaded them with the heads, and then summoned
alL the constables of the county for a safeguard, and sent


52 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
them to the court, with a promise to his Majesty that in a
short time he would clear the island of all the bears, lions,
etc., etc.
Chapter IX.
The Tinker, hearing of Tom's Fame, he goes to his Partner;
and of his being unfortunatety slain by a Lion.
Tom's victories rang so loud that they reached the ears of
his old acquaintance the tinker, who, being desirous of
honour, resolved to go down and visit him in his govern-
ment; and coming there he was kindly entertained.
After a few days' pleasure, Tom told him he must go in
search of some bears and lions in the island.
"Then," said the tinker, " I will go with you."
"With all my heart," said Tom, "for I must own I shall
be glad of your company." On this they went forward—
Tom with his great sword and the tinker with his pike staff.
After they had travelled four or five hours, it was their
fortune to meet all the wild beasts together, being in number
fourteen, six of which were bears, the other eight young
lions. When these creatures had set their eyes on them
they ran furiously, as if they would have devoured them at
a mouthful, but Tom and the tinker stood side by side, with
their backs against an oak, until the lions and bears came
within their reach. Tom, with his sword, clave all their
heads asunder, until they were all destroyed, except one
young lion, who, seeing the rest of his fellow-creatures dead,
he was making his escape; but the tinker, being too ven-
turous, ran hastily after him, and gave the lion a blow.
The beast turned upon him, and seized him with such
violence by the throat as soon ended his life.
Tom's joy was now mingled with sorrow, for, though 1 e
had cleared the island of those ravenous beasts, yet his gri if
was intolerable for the loss of his friend.
Home he returned to his lady, where, in token of joy or
the success he'd had in his dangerous enterprizes, he nn,de


THE HISTORY OF JACK THE GIANT-KILjl
a very noble and splendid feast, to which he invited
friends and acquaintances, and then made the follow
promises:—
"My friends, while I have strength to stand,
Most manfully I will pursue
All dangers, till I clear the land
Of lions, bears, and tigers too."
THE HISTORY
OF
JACK
THE
GIANT-KILLER
CONTAINING
Ilia Birth and Parentage
His Meeting with the King's Son; His Noble
Conquests over many Monstrous Giants
And his rescuing a Beautiful Lady, whom he
afterwards married.
In the reign of King Arthur, near the Land's-End of Eng-
land, in the county of Cornwall, there lived a wealthy
farmer, who had only one son, commonly known by the
name of Jack. He was brisk, and of a lively, ready wit,
so that whatever he could not perform by strength he
completed by wit and policy. Never was any person heard
of that could worst him; nay, the learned he baffled by his
punning and ready inventions.
For instance, when he was no more than seven j'ears of


AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
.3 father sent him into the field to look after his oxen.
ountry vicar, by chance one day coming across the field,
led Jack, and asked him several questions; in particular,
Tow many commandments were there?" Jack told him
re were nine. The parson replied, "There are ten."
ay," quoth Jack, "master parson, you are out of that;
it & true there were ten, but you have broken one of
them." The parson replied, "Thou art an arch wag, Jack."
"Well, master parson," quoth Jack, "you have asked
me one question, and I have answered it; let me ask
you another. "Who made these oxen?" The parson
replied, "God." "You are out again," quoth Jack, "for
God made them bulls, but my father and his man Hobson
made oxen of them." The parson, finding himself fooled,
trudged away, leaving Jack in a fit of laughter.
In those days the mount of Cornwall was kept by a huge
and monstrous giant of 27 feet high and of 3 yards in
compass, of a grim countenance, to the terror of all the
neighbouring towns. His habitation was a cave in the
midst of the mount; neither would he suffer any living
creature to inhabit near him. His feeding was upon other
men's cattle; for whensoever he had occasion for food he
would wade over to the main land, where he would furnish
himself with whatever he could find; for the people at his
approach would forsake their habitations; then he would
take their cows and oxen, of which he would make nothing
to carry over on his back half a dozen at a time ; and as for
sheep and hogs, he would tie them round his waist. This
he had for many years practised in Cornwall.
But one day Jack, coming to the Town Hall, when the
Magistrates were sitting in consternation about the giant,
he asked what reward they would give to any. person that
would destroy him. They answered, "He shall have all
the giant's treasure in recompense." Quoth Jack, "Tb"*
I myself will undertake the work."


THE HISTORY OK JACK THE GIANT-KILLER. 55
Jack furnished himself with a horn, a shovel, and a pick-
axe, and over to the mount he goes in the beginning of a dark
winter evening, where he fell to work, and before morning
had digged a pit 22 feet deep, and as broad, and covered
the same over with long sticks and straw; then strewed a little
mould upon it, so that it appeared like the plain ground.
This done, Jack places himself on the contrary side of
the pit just about the dawning of the day, when, putting
his horn to his mouth, he then blew, "Tan twivie, tan twivie,"
which unexpected noise roused the giant, who came roaring
towards Jack, crying out, " You incorrigible villain, are you
come hither to break my rest? You shall dearly pay for it;
satisfaction I will have, and it shall be this—I will take
you wholly and broil you for my breakfast," which words
were no sooner out of his mouth but he tumbled headlong
into the deep pit, whose heavy fall made the very founda-
tion of the mount to shake.
"Oh! giant, where are you now? Faith, you are got
into Lobb's Pond, where I shall plague you for your
threatening words. What do you think now of broiling me
for your breakfast 1 Will no other diet serve you but poor
Jack?" Thus having tantalized the giant for a while, he gave
him a most weighty knock on the crown of his head with
his pick-axe, so that he immediately tumbled down, gave a
most dreadful groan, and died. This done, Jack threw the
earth in upon him, and so buried him; then, going and
searching the cave, he found a great quantity of treasure.
Now, when the Magistrates who employed him heard the
work was over, they sent for him, declaring that he should
henceforth be called Jack the Giant-Killer. And in honour
thereof, they presented him with a sword, together with a
fine rich embroidere/d belt, on which these words were
wrought ir i gold—
. the right valiant Cornish man
slew the giant Cormillan."


56 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
The news of Jack's victory was soon spread; when another
huge giant, named Blunderhoar, hearing of it, vowed to
be revenged on Jack if ever it was his fortune to light upon
him. This giant kept an enchanted castle, situated in the
midst of a lonesome wood. Now, Jack, about four months
after, walking near the borders of the said wood, on his
journey towards - Wales, grew weary, and therefore sat
himself down by the side of a pleasant fountain, where a
deep sleep suddenly seized on him, at which time the giant
coming for water, found him; and by the line on his belt
knew him to be Jack that killed his brother; aud, without
any words, threw him upon his shoulder, to carry him to
his enchanted castle.
Now, as they passed through a thicket, the ruffling of the
boughs awaked poor Jack, who, rinding himself in the
clutches of the giant, was strangely surprised; for, at the
entering within the first walls of the castle, he beheld the
ground all covered with bones and skulls of dead men,
the giant telling Jack that his bones would enlarge the
number that he saw. This said, he brought him into a
large parlour, where he beheld the bloody quarters of some
who were lately slain, and in the next room were many
hearts and livers, which the giant, in order to terrify Jack,
told him " that men's hearts and livers were the choicest of
his diet, for he commonly ate them with pepper and vinegar,
and he did not question but his heart would make him a dainty
bit." This said, he locks up poor Jack in an upper room, while
he went to fetch another giant living in the same wood, that
he might partake in the destruction of poor Jack.
Now, while he wasgone,dreadful shrieks and cries affrighted
poor Jack, especially a voice which continually cried—
"Do what you can to get away,
Or you'll become the gian.
He's gone to fetch his brot,
Will kill and likewise tortu.


58 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
him welcome, showing him a room with a bed in it, whereon
he might take his night's repose; therefore Jack undressed
himself, and, as the giant was walking to another apart-
ment, Jack heard him mutter forth these words to himself—
"Though here you lodge with me this night,
You shall not see the morning light;
My club shall dash your brains out quite."
"Sayest thou so," quoth Jack; "this is like your Welsh
tricks; yet I hope to be cunning enough for you." Then
getting out of bed he put a billet in his stead, and hid
himself in a corner of the room; and in the dead time of
the night the Welsh giant came with his great knotty club,
and struck several heavy blows upon the head where Jack
had laid the billet, and then returned to his own chamber,
supposing he had broken all the bones in his body.
In the morning Jack gave him hearty thanks for his
lodging. The giant said to him, "How have you rested?
Did you not feel something in the night?" "Nothing,"
quoth Jack, "but a rat which gave me three or four slaps
with her tail." Soon after the giant arose and went to
breakfast with a bowl of hasty pudding, containing nearly
four gallons, giving Jack the like quantity, who, being
loath to let the giant know he could not eat with him, got
a large leathern bag, putting it very artfully under his loose
coat, into which he secretly conveyed his pudding, telling
the giant he could show him a trick; then, taking a large
knife, he ripped open the bag, which the giant supposed to
be his belly, when out came the hasty pudding, at which
the Welsh giant cried, "Cotsplut, hur can do dat trick
hurself." Then, taking his sharp knife, he ripped up his
own belly from the bottom to the top; and out dropped his
bowels, so that he fell down for dead. Thus Jack outwitted
the giant, and proceeded on his journey.
About this time King Arthur's son only desired of b'
father to furnish him with a certain sum of money, that h


TUB HISTORY OF JACK THE GIANT-KILLEtt. 59
might go and seek his fortune in Wales, where a beautiful
lady lived, whom he heard was possessed with seven evil
spirits; but the king his father advised him utterly against
it, yet he would not be persuaded of it; so he granted what
he requested, which was one horse loaded with money, and
another for himself to ride on; thus he went forth without
any attendants.
Now, after several days' travel, he came to a market
town in Wales, where he beheld a large concourse of people
gathered together. The king's son demanded the reason of
it, and was told that they had arrested a corpse for many
large sums of money which the deceased owed when he
died. The king's son replied, "It is a pity that creditors
slioulil be so cruel; go bury the dead, and let his creditors
come to my lodging, and their debts shall be discharged."
Accordingly they came in great numbers, so that.he left
himself moneyless.
Now, Jack the Giant-Killer being there, and, seeing the
generosity of the king's son, he was taken with him, and
desired to be his servant. It was agreed upon the next,
morning, when, riding out at the town-end, the king's son,
turning to Jack, said, "I cannot tell how I will subsist in
my intended journey." "For that," quoth Jack, " take you
no care: let me alone; I warrant you we will not want."
Now, Jack, having a spell in his pocket, which served at
noon for a refreshment, when done, they had not one penny
left betwixt them. The afternoon they spent in travel and
discourse, till the sun began to grow low, at which time the
king's son said; " Jack, since we have no money, where can
we think to lodge this night?" Jack replied, "We'll do
well enough, for I have an uncle living within two miles of
this. He is a monstrous giant with three heads; he will
fight 500 men in armour, and make them to fly before him."
"Alas!" saith the king's son, "what shall we do there?
Ht will certainly chop us both up at one mouthful!" "It


60 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
is no matter for that," quoth Jack; "I will go before and
prepare the way for you. Tarry here."
He waits, and Jack rides full speed; when he came to the
castle, he knocked with such a force that he made all the
neighbouring hills to resound. The giant, with a voice like
thunder, roared out, " Who's there?" He answered, "None
but your own cousin Jack. Dear uncle, heavy news, God wot."
"Prithee, what heavy news can come to me? I am a giant
with three heads, and besides thou knowest I can fight five
hundred men." "O! but,".quoth Jack, "here's the king's
son coming with 1,000 men to kill you." "Oh! Jack, this
is heavy news indeed. I have a large vault under ground,
where I will hide myself, and thou shalt lock, bolt, and bar
me in, and keep the keys till the king's son is gone."
Jack having secured the giant, he returned and fetched
his master. They were both heartily merry with the wine
and other dainties which were in the house; so that night
they rested in very pleasant lodgings, whilst the poor uncle
the giant lay trembling in the vault under ground.
Early in the morning Jack furnished his master with a
supply of gold and silver, and set him three miles forward
on his journey, concluding he was then pretty well out of
the smell of the giant, and then'returned to let his uncle
out of the hole, who asked Jack what he would give him
in reward, since his castle was not demolished. "Why," quoth
Jack, "I desire nothing but the old coat and cap, together
with the old rusty sword and slippers which are at your
bed-head." "Jack, thou shalt have them, and pray keep
them for my sake, for they are things of excellent use. The
coat will keep you invisible; the cap will furnish you with
knowledge; the sword cuts asunder whatever you strike,
and the shoes are of extraordinary swiftness: these may be
serviceable to you, and therefore pray take them with all
my heart." Jack takes them, thanking his uncle, and
follows his master.


THE HISTORY OF JACK THE GIANT-KILLER. v.
Jack, having overtaken his master, soon after arrived at
the lady's house, who, finding the king's son to be a suitor,
prepared a banquet for him, and, being ended, she wiped his
mouth with her napkin, saying, "You must show this
to-morrow, or else lose your head," and she put it safely
into her bosom.
The king's son went to bed sorrowful, but Jack's cap of
knowledge instructed him how to obtain it. In the middle
of the night she called upon her familiar spirit to carry her to
Lucifer. Jack put on his coat of darkness, with his shoes of
swiftness, and was there as soon as her; by reason of his coat
they could not see him. When she entered the place she
gave the handkerchief to old Lucifer, who laid it carefully
upon a shelf, from whence Jack brought it to his master,
who showed it to the lady the next day.
The next night she saluted the king's son, telling him he
must show her to-morrow morning the lips that she kissed
last this night, or lose his head. '" Ah," replied he, "if you
kiss none but mine I will.'1 "It is neither here nor there,"
said she; "if you do not, death's your portion." At mid-
night she went as before, and was angry with Lucifer for
letting the handkerchief go. "But now," said she, "I will
be too hard for the king's son, for I will kiss thee, and he's
to show thy lips." Jack, standing near him with his sword
of sharpness, cut off the devil's head, and brought it under his
invisible coat to his master, who was in bed, and laid it at
the end of his bolster. In the morning, when the lady came
up, he pulled it out by the horns, and showed her the devil's
lips, which she kissed last.
Thus, having answered her twice, the enchantment broke,
and the evil spirits left her, at which time she appeared a
beautiful and virtuous creature. They were married next
morning in great pomp and solemnity, and returned with a
numerous company to the court of King Arthur, where they
were received with the greatest joy and loud acclamations
5


AMUSING PROSE CHAP-HOOKS.
Jack, for the many and great exploits he had done for the
good of his country, was made one of the Knights of the
Round Table.
Jack, having resolved not to be idle, humbly requested of
the king to fit him with a horse and money to travel, " for,"
said he, "there are many giants alive in the remotest parts
of the kingdom, to the unspeakable damage of your Majesty's
liege subjects; wherefore, may it please your Majesty to
give me encouragement to rid the realm of these cruel and
devouring monsters of nature, root and branch.
Now, when the king had heard these noble propositions,
and had duly considered the mischievous practices of these
blood-thirsty giants, he immediately granted what Jack re-
quested; and, being furnished with all necessaries for his
progress, he took his leave of King Arthur, taking with him
the cap of knowledge, sword of sharpness, shoes of swiftness,
and likewise the invisible coat, the better to perfect and
complete the dangerous enterprises that lay before him.
Jack travelled over vast hills and mountains, when, at
the end of three days, he came to a large and spacious
wood, where, on a sudden, he heard dreadful shrieks and
cries, whereupon, casting his eyes around, he beheld a giant
rushing along with a worthy knight and his fair lady,'whom
he held by the hair of their heads in his hands, wherefore
he alighted from off his horse, and then, putting on his
invisible coat, under which he carried his sword of sharp-
ness, he came up to the giant, and, though he made several
passes at him, yet he could not reach the trunk of his body,
by reason of his height, though it wounded his thighs in
several places; but at length, giving him a swinging stroke,
he cut off both his legs just below the knee, so that the
trunk of his body made the ground shake with the force of
his fall, at which the knight and the lady escaped; then
had Jack time to talk with him, and, setting his foot upon
his neck, said, "You savage and barbarous wretch, I am


TUB HISTORY OF JACK THE GIANT-KILLER. 65
them, "we have been taken by the giants, and here we are
kept till they have a feast, then the fattest among us is
slaughtered for their devouring jaws. It is not long since
they took three of us for the purpose." "Say you so,"
quoth Jack; "well, I have given them both such a dinner
that it will be long enough ere they need any more. You may
believe me, for I have slain them both; and as for their
monstrous heads, I sent them to the court of King Arthur
as trophies of my victory." Then, leading them to the afore-
said room, he placed them round the table, and set before
them two quarters of beef, also bread and wine, so that
they feasted there very plentifully. Supper being ended,
they searched the giant's coffers, where, finding a vast store
of gold, Jack divided it equally among them. They all re-
turned him hearty thanks for their treasure and miraculous
deliverance. That night they went to their rest, and in
the morning they arose and departed to their respective
places of abode, and Jack to the knight's house.
Jack mounted his horse, and by his direction he came to
the knight's house, where he was received with all demon-
strations of joy by the knight and his lady, who, in respect
to Jack, prepared a feast, which lasted for many days,
inviting all the gentry in the adjacent parts. He presented
him with a ring of gold, on which was engraven by curious
art the picture of the giant dragging a distressed knight
and his fair lady by the hair of the head.
Now, there were five aged gentlemen who were fathers
to some of those miserable captives whom Jack had set at
liberty, who immediately paid him their respects. The
smiling bowl was then pledged to the victorious conqueror,
but during their mirth a dark cloud appeared, which daunted
the assembly.
A messenger brought the dismal tidings of the approach
of one Thunderful, a huge giant with two heads, who,
having heard of the death of his kinsmen, the above-named


66 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
giants, was come in search of Jack, to be revenged on him
for their terrible downfall, and was within a mile of the
knight's seat, the people flying before him from their habita-
tions. When they had related this, Jack said, "Let him
come. I am prepared with a tool to pick his teeth, and you,
gentlemen and ladies, walk forth into the garden, and you
shall be the joyful spectators of this monstrous giant's
death." To which they consented, wishing him good fortune
in that great enterprise. f
The situation of the knight's house was in a small island,
encompassed with a vast moat, thirty feet deep and twenty
feet wide, over which lay a drawbridge. Wherefore Jack
employed two men to cut it on both sides, and then, dressing
himself in' his coat of darkness, putting on his shoes of
swiftness, he marched against the giant, with his sword of
sharpness ready drawn. When he came close up, the giant
could not see Jack, by reason of his invisible coat; never-
theless, he was sensible of approaching danger, which made
him cry out—
"Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman; be he
living or be he dead, I'll grind his bones to mix my bread."
"Sayest thou so," quoth Jack; "then thou art a mon-
strous miller. But how? If I serve thee as I did the two
giants of late, I should spoil your practice for the future."
At which time the giant spoke with a voice as loud as
thunder—" Art thou that villain which destroyed my kins-
men? Then I will tear thee with my teeth, and suck thy
blood. I will grind thy bones to powder."
"Catch me first," quoth Jack; and he threw off his coat of
darkness that the giant might see him, and then ran from him
as through fear, the giant, with glaring eyes, following after
like a walking castle, making the earth to shake at every
step. Jack led him a dance three or four times'round the
moat, that the ladies and gentlemen might take a full view
of this huge monster who followed Jack, but could not over-


THE HISTORY OF JACK THE GIANT-KILLER. C7
take him by reason of his shoes of swiftness. At length
Jack took over the bridge, the giant, with full speed, pur-
suing aft a- him, with his iron club; but, coming to the
middle of the draw-bridge, the weight of his body, and the
mobt dreadful steps which he took, it broke down, and he
tumbled into the water, where he rolled and wallowed like
a whale. Jack, standiug at the side of the moat, laughed
at the giant, and said, "You would grind my bones to
powder? You have water; pray, where is your mill?"
The giant foamed to hear him scoffing at that rate, though
he plunged from place to place in the moat. Jack at length
got a cart rope, and cast it over the giant's two heads with
a slip knot, and, by the help of horses, he dragged him out
again, nearly strangled. Before he would let him loose, he
cut off both his heads with his sword of sharpness, in the
view of all the assembly of knights and ladies, who gave a
shout when they saw the giant despatched. Then, before
he would either eat or drink, he sent these heads also to the
court of King Arthur.
After some mirth and pastime, Jack, taking leave of the
noble knights and ladies, set off in search of new adven-
tures. Through many woods and groves he passed, till,
coming to the foot of a high mountain late at night, he
knocked at the door of a lonesome house, at which a man,
with a head as white as snow, arose and let him in.
"Father," said Jack, " have you any entertainment for a
benighted traveller that has lost his way?"
"Yes," said the old man; "if thou wilt accept of such as my
poor cottage afford, thou shalt be welcome." Jack returned
him thanks. They sat together, and the old mdn began to
discourse as follows—" Son, I am sensible thou art the
great conqueror of giants, and it is in thy power to free this
place; for there is an enchanted castle kept by a monstrous
giant, named Galligantus, who, by the hplp of a conjurer,
betrays knights and ladies into this strong castle, where, by


68 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
magic art, they are transformed into sundry shapes; but,
above all, I lament the misfortune of a duke'.i daughter,
whom they fetched from her father's garden, carrying her
through the air in a charion drawn'by fiery dragon." She
was immediately transformed into the shape of a white
hind. Many knights have endeavoured to break the
enchantment for her deliverance, yet none could accomplish
it, by reason of two griffins, who are at the entrance of the
castle gate, who destroy them as they see them; but you,
being furnished with an invisible coat, may pass them
undiscovered, where, on the gates of the castle, you will
find engraven in characters the means the enchantment
may be broken."
Jack gave him his hand, with a promise that in the
morning he would break" the enchantment and free the lady.
Having refreshed themselves with a morsel of meat, they
laid down to rest. Iu the morning Jack arose, and put
on his invisible coat, his cap of knowledge, and shoes of
swiftness, and so prepared himself for the dangerous
enterprise.
Now, when he had ascended the mountain he discovered
the two fiery griffins. He passed between them, for they
could not see him by reason of his invisible coat. When he
had got beyond them, he found upon the gate a golden
trumpet, hung in a chain of fine silver, under which were
engraven—
"Whoever shall this trumpet blow
Shall soon the giant overthrow,
And break the black enchantment straight,
So all shall be in happy state."
Jack had no sooner read this inscription, but he blew the
trumpet, at which the foundation of the castle trembled,
and the giant, with the conjurer, were tearing their
hair, knowing their wicked reign was at an end. At
which time the giant was stooping to take up his club;


SIMPLE SIMON S MISFORTUNES.
Jack, at one blow with his sword of sharpness, cut off his
head. The conjurer mounted into the air, and was carried
away by a whirlwind. Thus was the enchantment broken,
and every knight and lady who had been transformed into
birds and beasts returned to their proper shapes, and the
castle, though it seemed to be of a vast strength and
bigness, vanished away like a cloud, whereon universal joy
appeared among the released knights and ladies. This
being done, the head of Galligantus was conveyed to the
court of King Arthur the next day. Having refreshed the
knights and ladies at the old man's habitation, Jack set
forward to the court of King Arthur with those knights and
ladies whom he delivered.
Coming to his Majesty, his fame rung through the
court, and, as a reward of his services, the duke bestowed
his daughter in marriage to Jack. The whole kingdom
was filled with joy at the wedding; after which the
king bestowed upon him a noble house, with a large estate,
where he and his lady passed their days in great joy and
happiness.
SIMPLE SIMON'S MISFORTUNES
AND HIS
WIFE MARGERY'S CRUELTY
WHICH BEGAN
The very next Morning after their Marriage. ,
Chapter I.
An Account of Simon's Wedding, and his Wife's
Behaviour the Bay after their Marriage.
Simon, the subject of our ensuing discourse, was a mau
very unfortunate many years after marriage, not only by
crosses, but by the cruelty of Margery his severe wife—his


AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
wedding day being the best he saw in seven years after,
for then he had all his friends about him. Rough Ralph
the Fiddler and Will the Piper were appointed to make him
and his guests merry.
Singing, dancing, and good feasting attended the day,
which being ended, this loving couple went to bed, where
their friends all left them.
But the morning was ushered in with a mighty storm,
only because Simon put on his roast-meat clothes.
Thus she began the matter—" Why, how now, pray, and
what is to-day, that you must put on your holiday clothes,
with a pye-crust to you? What do you intend to do, say
you, tell me quickly."
"Nothing," said Simon, "but to walk abroad with you,
sweet wife, as it is common on the day after marriage."
"No, no," said Margery, " this must not, nor shall not be.
It is very well known that I have brought you a very con-
siderable fortune—forty shillings in money, and a good
milch cow, four fat wethers, with half a dozen ewes and
lambs; likewise, geese, hens, and turkeys; also a sow and
pigs, with other moveables, worth more than any of your
crook-back generation is able to give you. And do you
think you shall lead as lewd a life now as you did before
you married; but if you do, then say my name is not
Margery. Now I've got you in the bands of matrimony I
will make you know what it is to be married; therefore, to
work you rascal, and take care that what I brought is not
consumed; for, if you do not, what will become of your wife
and children?"
Now, Simon looked liked one that had neither sense nor
reason, but stood amazed, as if there had been a whole army
of Billingsgate shrews. However, recollecting what he had
heard about scolds, he muttered to himself, "Udswagers, I
think I have got a woeful one now."
"What is that you say, sirrah?" said she.


simple simon's misfortunes. 71
"Nothing, dear wife, but what you say I allow to be true."
And so, taking his bag and bottle, he went forward to his
daily labour: but, coming towards the lower end of the
town, he chanced to meet old Jobson, a cobbler, a merry
blade, who loved a cup of good ale.
"What! honest Simon," said Jobson, "I am glad to see
you, for since our last meeting I hear you are married, and
now I wish thee much happiness."
Now, old Jobson, being a merry fellow, invited Simon to
take a flaggon of the best liquor that the next ale-house
would afford, and there to drink to Margery's health.
Being merry in discourse, talking of the tricks and pranks
they had played when bachelors.
Jobson, taking up the flaggon in his hand, said, "Come,
here's to thee, honest Simon, and I wish thee better luck
than Randal, thy old .father-in-law, had with his wife; for
she was such a scold that happy were they who lived out
of the clamour of her noise. But without doubt thy de»»i-
wife may be of a milder spirit, and have more of her father's
meekness than her mother's fury in her; but come, Simon,
here's to thee and to thy dearly-beloved Margery."
Cries Simon, " If she was present how merry we should
be; but, I fear, on the wrong side of the mouth."
"Well," said Jobson, "1 vow I long to see her; and I
verily believe she would be as glad to see me. I dare to
say she will prove a very good wife."
"Truly, neighbour Jobson, I don't know; but if I have
no better ending than beginning, I wish I had ended my
life at the plough tail."
No sooner were these words out of his mouth but in
comes Margery, with her gossips, whom Simon wished to
see, forsooth. He wished her much joy, but Margery, in a
woeful fury, snatched up Jobson's oaken staff from off the
table, and gave poor Simon such a clank upon the noddle
which made the blood spin out, saying, " Is this your work,


72 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-HOOKS.
sirrah?" Jobson, seeing so sudden an alteration, was
affrighted, not knowing how to escape.
She then truned about to the left, saying, "Thou rogue
and rascal, it is you that ruins all the good women's husbands
in the town; therefore you shall not go unrewarded," giving
him such strokes over his back and shoulders as caused
poor Jobson to lay in bed almost a fortnight.
Simple Simon all this while not having any power to run
away, but stood like one half frighted out of his wits, and
trembling before his bride, with his hat in one hand and
the flaggon in the other, begging her that she would be
patient, and he would never offend her any more.
But she gave him a frown, and bid him begone about his
business, which he immediately did. So then Margery and
her friendly gossips had the whole apartment to themselves,
where they sat till they were all as drunk as fish-women.
Chaptkr II.
She drags him up into the Chimney, and hangs him
a Smoke-drying.
At night, when he returned to his own home, Margery, by
the help of a nap she had taken, was a little restored to her
senses again; but yet, not forgetting the fault he had com-
mitted, she invented a new kind of punishment; for, having
a wide chimney, wherein they used to dry bacon, she, taking
him at a disadvantage, tied him hand and foot, bound him
in a basket, and, by the help of a rope, drew him up to the
beam in the chimney, and left him there to take his lodging
the second night after his wedding, with a small, smoky fire
under him, so that in the morning he almost reezed like to
a red-herring. But in length of time he prevailed with his
wife to show him so much pity as to let him down again.
"In love' release me from this horrid smoke, .
And I will never more my wife provoke;
She then did yield tc. let him down from thence,
And said, " Be careful of the next offence."


simple simon's misfortunes. 73
'Chapter III.
Simon loses a Sack of Corn that he was carrying
to the Mill to have ground.
Nrr long after she sent him to the mill with a sack of
corn, and bade him remember what she said to him, or else
he should not go unpunished.
"Well," said Simon, "I hope I shall never offend thee
any more."
For this promise she gave him a mess of milk, and when
he had eaten all up he took the sack of corn upon his back,
and went towards the mill, which stood about two miles
from the house.
When Simon was got about half way he began to be
weary, which was the forerunner of a great misfortune, for
a man riding by, leading an empty horse towards the mill,
perceived Simon weary of his load, told him he might lay
it upon his spare horse, to which Simon willingly con-
sented.
The man riding ou, Simon could not pace with him, so
desired him to leave it for him at the mill. He promised
he would, but never intended to perform his promise.
Simon, thus loosing his sack of corn, knew not how to go
home, or bIiow his face before his wife, until he got two or
three of his neighbours to go with him to beg for his pardon,
and to help to make up the difference between them, which
they did after a long parley. So that for this crime he
passed unpunished.
Chapter IV.
Si/mon goes to the Market with his Basket of Eggs, breaks
them all by the Way, and is set in the Stocks.
But, although he was not punished according to the severe
correction he had formerly received, yet he did not escape
the continual railings in his ears for several days after, ever
and anon she crying out, "You sot, will you never be
wise?


74 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
"Ye3, sweet Margery, dear Margery, I hope I shall sojae
time."
"Well," says she, "I'll now try you once more. Fere,
take this basket of eggs, and go to the market and sell thtm,
but be sure don't break them nor spend the money, for it
you do, sorrow will be your sops, and you may expect to
feel the weight of my hands more than ever you have done
before.
At which harsh words he trembled much, and looked as
white as his dear Margery's shift, for fear that he should
miscarry with his basket of eggs, for he well knew that his
wife would be sure to be as good as her promise.
Then Simon, taking his basket of eggs, trudged away to
the market, but was no sooner come there than, seeing a vast
crowd of people, he was resolved to see what was the matter.
When he came to the place he found that two butter-
women had fallen out, and to that degree that they had
taken one another by the que of their hair, and their fillets
all flying about their ears; which Simon seeing he was
moved with compassion, and ran to part them, but in vain;
poor Simon was still unfortunate, and came off with a great
loss, for one of the women pushed him down and broke
his eggs.
Poor Simon was now almost distracted to see the ground,
but whether it was the fear of the anger of his wife, or
whether it was courage, thus it was, Simon ran in amongst
them, and resolved to be revenged on them for the loss of
his eggs.
Whilst they were in the fray the constable came, and,
supposing them drunk, gave orders that they should all be
set in the stocks together—Simon in the middle, and the
women on each side—which was accordingly done; but they
rang such a peal in Simon's ears that he was deaf for a
fortnight after.
Being released, he ventured home again, dreading the


sIMPLE SIMON's Misfortunes. 75
impending storm; but this was his comfort in the midst of
all his hard fortune, that, though he might feel the force of
her blows, still he would be deaf to her noise, being stunned
by the women in the stocks. -
CHAPTER W.
Simon's Wife Cudgels him severely
for losing his Money.
At length Simon coming home he met with his beloved
wife Margery, who, seeing his dejected countenance, she
began to mistrust something, and so, taking hold of his arm,
she hauled him in for examination.
When Simon saw this he could not forbear weeping, and
began to tell her a dismal story concerning the stocks; but
she wanted the money for the eggs; but Simon, being deaf,
could not hear her, which made her fall on him with such
fury that he was obliged to run up stairs and jump out of
the chamber window, which, when she saw, she followed
him down the town, with a hundred boys and girls after
them, Simon still crying out to the people, “You may see
what it is to be married.”
And her tone was, “You rascal; the money for my eggs,”
often giving him a crack on the crown.
At length it was his good hap to get away from her.
Night drawing on, and Simon not having one penny to help
himself, was forced to make the best of a bad bargain,
resolved for to lodge that night in a hog-stye amongst the
swine.
And so the next morning, in the presence of some of his
dearest friends, he begged pardon on his knees of his sweet,
kind, and loving wife, Margery.
Charteit WI.
Simon loses his Wife's Pail, and at the same time burns
out the Bottom of her Kettle.
MARGERY, being reconciled again on his humble petition,
she charged him to be careful for the future that he did not


76 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
offend her as he had done before, which he promised to
observe. "Then, Simon," said she, " I am this day to go to
a gossiping, and shall leave you at home to make a fire
and hang on the kettle."
"Yes, sweet wife."
Now, Margery was no sooner gone but he made a fire and
hung on the kettle. Then, taking the pail, he goes to the
well to fetch some water, when there came an ox running
down, and a butcher and his boy close after him, who called
out to Simon to stop the ox, which he endeavoured to do,
but the ox, giving them the slip, Simon ran in pursuit of
him for the space of three or four miles, and, having secured
him, the butcher gave him many thanks for his kindness.
So Simon returned back to the well, but his pail was lost,
and he made sad lamentation for it, inquiring about it, but
could not hear nothing of it; and as the old proverb says,
"One sorrow never comes alone," for on going in doors the
fire was flaming, and the bottom of the kettle was quite
burnt out
.
At the sight of this he fell to wringing his hands and
crying out with a lamentable tone, "None was so unfortu-
nate as poor Simon. What shall I say to my wife when
she comes? First, I have lost my pail; and, second, I have
let the bottom of the kettle be burnt out. Here will be a
sad reckoning for these misfortunes."
Just in the middle of these lamentations in comes Mar-
gery, who, having heard him, came armed and fitted for the
fray.
"How now, sirrah," said she, " has this been the care you
promised of my business?" and with that let fly an earthen
pot at his head, which caused the blood to run about his
ears.
This done, she took him by the collar, and cuft him about
the kitchen at a most terrible rate, Simon crying for mercy,
but cruel Margery still increased his misery, till the neigh-


simple simon's misfortunes. 77
hours came, persuading Margery to be satisfied, "for," said
they, " it was but a mischance."
"A rascal," said she, "for I can set him about nothing,
but thus he serves me."
They still interceded for Simon, until at length she
excused him.
Chapter VII.
Simon's Wife sends him to buy Soap, but, going over a
Bridge, he lets his Money fall into the River;
and of a Ragman's running away with his Clothes.
Margery, calling Simon to her, said, "Will you never be
careful in anything I set you about?"
"Yes, dear wife, I hope I shall."
"Why, then," said she, "take this money. I have tied
it in a clout, that you may not lose it. Therefore, go you
to the market, and make all the haste you can, and get me
some soap."
"I will, sweet wife," quoth he, and with that he went as
fast as he could.
Now, on his way he was to pass over a bridge, and,
coming to the middle of it, a flight of crows flew over his
head, which so frightened him that he let fall his money.
This was the beginning of a new sorrow. He stood
awhile, and knew not what course to take. At length he
resolved to pull off his clothes and jump into the water
and search ,for it. Now, as he was searching for his money,
an old ragman came by, and put his clothes into a bag.
Simon, seeing this, pursued him, but in vain, and was
forced to return home naked, which his wife seeing fell in
a most horrible sweat, and, taking the dog-whip, she so
jerked poor Simon about, making him to dance the canaries
for two hours, till he cried out, "Good wife, forEear!" but
she cried out, "You rascal! where is my money, and your
clothes?" Thus she continued until she was tired, and h«
heartily begge-1' pardon.


78 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
THE ADVENTURES
OF
BAMFYLDE MOORE CAREW,
WHO WAS FOR MORE TIIAN FORTY YEARS
KING OF THE BEGGARS.
Chapter I.
Carew's Boyhood. And how he
became a Gipsy.
Mr. Bamfylde Moore Carew was the son of a clergyman
near Tiverton, in Devonshire, and born in 1093. He was
tall and majestic, his limbs strong and well-proportioned,
his features regular, and his countenance open and ingenious,
bearing the resemblance of a good-natured mind. At twelve
years old he was put to Tiverton school, where he soon got
a considerable knowledge of the Latin and Greek tongues, so
as to be fitted for the University, that in due time he might
be fitted for the church, for which his father designed him;
but here a new exercise engaged his attention, namely, that
of hunting, in which he soon made a prodigious progress.
The Tiverton scholars had command of a fine cry of hounds,
which gave Carew a frequent opportunity of exercising his
beloved employment, and getting acquainted with John
Martin, Thomas Coleman, and John Escott, young gentlemen
of the best rank and fortune. One day a farmer came to the
school and complained of a deer, with a collar round its
neck, that he had seen running through his grounds, and
had done him much damage, desiring them to hunt it down
and kill it. They, wishing for no bette -t, on the next


80 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
worst of evils. This happiness and temper of mind so
wrought on Carew as to occasion the strongest attachment
to them for forty years, refusing very large offers that had
been made to him to quit their society.
Being thus initiated into the ancient society of gipsies,
who take their name from Egypt—a place well known to
abound in learning, and the inhabitants of which country
travel about from place to place to communicate knowledge
to mankind—Carew did not long continue in it before he
was consulted in important matters; particularly Madam
Musgrove, of Monkton, near Taunton, hearing of his fame,
sent for him to consult him in an affair of difficulty. When
he was come, she informed him that she suspected a large
quantity of money was buried somewhere about her house,
and if he would acquaint her with the particular place, she
would handsomly reward him. Carew consulted the secrets
of his art on this occasion, and, after a long study, he in-
formed the lady that under a laurel tree in the garden lay
the treasure she sought for; but that she must not seek it
till such a day and hour. The lady rewarded him with
twenty guineas; but, whether Carew mistook his calcula-
tions or the lady mistook her lucky hour, we cannot tell,
but truth obliges us to say, the lady having dug below the
root of the laurel tree she could not find the treasure.
When he was further initiated, he was consulted in im-
portant matters and met with better success; generally
giving satisfaction by his wise and sagacious answers. In
the meantime his parents sorrowed after him, as one that
was no more, having advertised him in all the public papers
and sent messengers after him to almost every part of the
kingdom; till about a year and a half afterwards, when
Carew, hearing of their grief, and being struck with tender-
ness thereat, repaired to his father's house. He was so
disguised they did not know him, but when they did their
joy was beyond expressing, tenderly embracing him, bedew-


THE ADVENTURES OF BAMFYLDE MOORE CAREW. 81
ing his cheeks with tears and kisses, and all his friends and
neighbours showed every demonstration of joy at bis return.
His parents did everything to render home agreeable to him;
but the uncommon pleasure he had enjoyed in the community
he had left, their simplicity, freedom, sincerity, mirth, and
frequent change of habitation, and the secret presages of the
honour he has since arrived at, sickened and palled all other
diversions, and at last prevailed over his filial duty, for one
day, without taking leave of his friends or parents, he went
back to them again, where he was heartily welcomed, both
to his own and their satisfaction, they being glad to regain
one who was likely to become so useful a member of their
community.
Chapter II.
Carew'a First Adventure in his New Profession.
Carew being again initiated among them, at the first
general assembly of the gipsies, took the oaths of allegiance
to their sovereign, by whom he was soon sent out on a cruise
against their enemies. Carew now set his wits to work how
to succeed: so equipping himself with an old pair of trousers,
a piece of a jacket, just enough to cover his nakedness,
stockings full of holes, and an old cap, he forgot both friends
and family and became nothing more or less than an un-
fortunate shipwrecked seaman. In this, his first excursion,
he gained much credit, artfully imitating passes and certifi-
cates that were necessary for him to travel unmolested.
After a month's travel he happened to meet with his old
school-fellow Coleman, who had once left the gipsies'
society, but, for the same reason as himself, returned to them
again. Great was their joy at meeting, aud they agreed to
travel some time together; so entering Exeter, they, in one
day, raised a contribution of several pounds.
Having obtained all he could from this stratagem, he then
became a plain, honest farmer, whose grounds had been over-
flowed, and cattle drowned; his dejected countenance and


82 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
mournful tale, together with a wife and seven helpless in-
fants being partakers of his misfortunes, gained him both
pity and profit
.
Having obtained a considerable booty by these two strata-
gems, he returned to his companions, where he was received
with great applause; and, as a mark of their respect, seated
him next the king. He soon became a great man in the
profession and confined not himself from doing good to
others, when it did not infringe upon the community of
which he was a member.
His next stratagem was to become a madman; so stripping
himself quite naked, he threw a blanket over him and then
he was, " Poor mad Tom, whom the foul fiend had led through
fire and through flame! through fire and whirlpool, over
bog and quagmire; that hath laid knives under his pillow,
and halters in his pew; set ratsbane for his porridge, and
made him proud at heart to ride on a bay trotting-horse
over four-inch bridges; to curse his own shadow for a traitor;
who eats the swimming-frog, the toad, the tadpole, the wall-
newt, and the water-newt; that in the fury of his heart,
when the foul fiend rages, swallows the old rat and ditch
dog; drinks the green mantle of the standing pool:
And mice and rats, and such like gear,
Have been Tom's food for seven long year.
0 do de, do de, do de! bless thee! from whirlwind, star-
blasting, and taking! Do poor Tom some charity, whom
the foul fiend vexes. There I could have him now—and
there!—and there!—and here again!—and there!—Through
the sharp hawthorn blows the cold wind—Tom's a cold!—
who gives anything to poor Tom?"
In this character, with such like expressions, he entered
the houses of both small and great, claiming kindred to them,
and committing all kinds of frantic actions, such as beating
himself, offering to eat coals of fire, running against the wall,
and tearing to pieces whatever garments were given to him
/


84 AMUSING PBOSE CHAP-BOOKS.
where were a large company of gentlemen and ladies.
"Well, honest rat-catcher," says the squire, "can you lay any
scheme to kill the rats without hurting ray dogs V "Yes,
yes," cries Carew, "I can lay i t where even the rats cannot
climb to reach it." "What countryman aro you?" "A
Devonshire man, an please your honour." "What is your
name?" Here our hero began to perceive that he was dis-
covered, by the smilings and whisperings of several gentle-
men, and he very composedly answered, "My name is
Bamfylde Moore Carew." This occasioned much mirth,
and Mr. Pleydell expressed extraordinary pleasure. He
had often wished to see him but never had. "Yes, you
have," replied Carew, " and given me a suit of clothes. Do
you not remember meeting a poor wretch one day at your
stable door, with a stocking round his head, an old mantle
over his shoulders, without shirt, stockings, or scarce any
shoes, who told you he was a poor unfortunate man, cast
away upon the coast, with sixteen more of the crew who
were all drowned; you, believing the story, generously re-
lieved me with a guinea and a good suit of clothes." "I
well remember it," said Mr. Pleydell, " but, on this discovery,
it is impossible to deceive me so again, come in whatever
shape you will." The company blamed him for thus boast-
ing, and secretly prevailed upon Carew to put his art in
practice to convince him of the fallacy thereof: to which he
agreed, and in a few days after appointing the company pre-
sent to be at Mr. Pleydell's house, he put the following scheme
into execution.
He shaved himself closely, and clothed himself in an old
woman's apparel, with a high-crowned hat, and a large
dowdy under his chin; then, taking three children from
among his fraternity, he tied two on his back and one under
his arm. Thus accoutred, he comes to Mr. Pleydell's door,
and pinching one of the brats, set it a roaring; this gave the
alarm to the dogs, who came out with open mouths, so that


THE ADVENTURES OF BAMFYLDE MOORE CAREW. 85
the whole company was soon alarmed. Out came the maid
saying, " Carry away the children, good woman, they dis-
turb the ladies." "God bless their ladyships," said Carew,
"I am the poor unfortunate grandmother of these helpless
infants, whose mother and all they had were burnt at the
dreadful fire at Kirkton, and hope the good ladies, for
Heaven's sake, will bestow something on the poor, famish-
ing, starving infants." In goes the maid with this affecting
story to the ladies, while Carew keeps pinching the children
to make them cry, and the maid soon returned with half-a-
crown and some good broth, which he thankfully received,
and went into the courtyard to sit down and sup them.as
perceiving the gentlemen were not at home. He had not
long been there before they came, when one of them
accosted him thus—"Where do you come from, old
woman?" "From Kirkton, please your honours," said he,
"where the poor unhappy mother of these helpless infants
was burnt in the flames and all she had consumed."
"There has been more money collected for Kirkton than
ever Kirkton was worth," said the gentleman. However,
they gave the supposed old grandmother a shilling, com-
miserating the hard case of her and her poor helpless infants,
which he thankfully received, pretending to go away; but
the gentlemen were haidly got into the house, before their
ears were suddenly saluted with a " tantivy, tantivy," and a
"halloo" to the dogs; on which they turned about, suppos-
ing it to be some other sportsmen; but seeing nobody, they
imagined it to be Carew, in the disguise of the old Kirkton
grandmother; so bidding the servants fetch him back, he
was brought into the parlour among them all, and con-
fessed himself to be the famous Mr. Bamfvldo Moore Carew,
to the astonishmet and mirth of them all; who well
rewarded him for the diversion he had afforded them.
In like manner he raised a contribution twice in one day
of Mr. Jones, near Bristol. In the morning, with a sooty


86 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
face, leather apron, a dejected countenance, and a woollen
cap, he was generously relieved as an unfortunate black-
smith, whose all had been consumed by fire. In the after-
noon he exchanged his legs for crutches, and, with a dejected
countenance, pale face, and every sign of pain, he became a
disabled tinner, incapable of maintaining a wife and seven
small children, by the damps and hardships he had suffered
in the mines; and so well acted his part, that the tinner got
as well relieved in the afternoon as the blacksmith in the
morning.
These successful stratagems gained him high applause
and honour in the community of gipsies. He soon became
the favourite of their king, who was very old and decrepid,
and had always some honourable mark of distinction assigned
him at their assemblies.
Being one morning near the seat of his good friend, Sir
William Courtney, he was resolved to pay him three visits
that day. He therefore puts on a parcel of rags, and goes to
him with a piteous, mean, dismal countenance, and deplor-
able tale, and got half-a-crown from him, telling him he had
met with great misfortunes at sea. At noon he puts on a
leather apron scorched with fire, and with a dejected coun-
tenance goes to him again, and was relieved as an unfortunate
shoemaker, who had been burnt out of his house and all he
had. In the afternoon he goes again in trimmed clothes, and
desiring admittance to Sir William, with a modest grace
and submissive eloquence, he repeats his misfortunes, as the
supercargo of a vessel which had been cast away and his
whole effects lost.
Sir William, seeing his genteel appearance and behaviour,
treated him with respect and gave him a guinea at his de-
parture. There were several gentlemen at dinner with Sir
William at that time, none of whom had any knowledge of
him except the Rev. Mr. Richards, who did not discover
him till he was gone; upon which a servant was despatched


THE ADVENTURES OF BAMFYLDE MOORE CAREW. 87
to desire him to come back, which he did; and when he
entered the room they were very merry with him and re-
quested him to give an account how he got his fine clothes,
and of his stratagems, with the success of them. He asked
Sir William if he had not given half-a-crown in the morning
to a beggar, and about noon relieved a poor unfortunate shoe-
maker. "I did," said Sir William. "Behold him before
you," said Carew, "in this fine embroidered coat, as a broken
merchant." The compare would not believe him; so to con-
vince them, he re-assumed those characters again, to their
no small mirth and satisfaction.
Chapter III.
Carew made King of the Beggars.
On the death of the king of the gipsies, named Clause
Patch, our hero was a candidate to succeed him, and ex-
hibited to the electors a long list of bold and ingenious
stratagems which he had executed, and made so graceful
and majestic an appearance in his person, that he had a
considerable majority of voices, though there were ten
candidates for the same honour; on which he was declared
duly elected and hailed by the whole assembly—King of
the Gipsies. The public register of their acts being im-
mediately committed to his care, and homage done him by
all the assembly, the whole concluded by rejoicings.
Though Mr. Carew was now privileged, by the dignity of
his office, from going on any cruise, and was provided with
everything necessary by the joint contribution of the com-
munity, yet he did not give himself up to indolence; Our
hero, though a king, was as active in his stratagems as ever,
and ready to encounter any difficulty which seemed to pro-
mise success.
Mr. Carew being in the town of South Molton, in Devon-
shire, and having been ill-used by an officer there called
the bellman, resolved on the following stratagem by way of
revenge. It was at that time reported that a gentleman of


88 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
the town, lately buried, walked nightly in the churchyard;
and as the bellman was obliged by his nightly duty to go
through it just at the very hour of one, Mr. Carew repaired
thither a little before the time, and stripping in his shirt,
lay down upon the gentleman's grave. Soon after, hearing
the bellman approach, he raised himself up with a solemn
slowness, which the bellman beholding, by the glimmerings
of the moon through a dark cloud, was terribly frightened,
so took to his heels and ran away. In his fright he looked
behind him, and seeing the ghost following him, dropped his
bell and ran the faster; which Carew seized on as a trophy,
and forbore any further pursuit. The bellman did not stop
till he reached home, where he obstinately affirmed he had
seen the gentleman's ghost, who had taken away the bell,
which greatly alarmed the whole town.
Coming to the seat of Squire Rhodes, in Devonshire,
and knowing he had lately married a Dorsetshire lady, he
thought proper to become a Dorsetshire man of Lyme, the
place of the lady's nativity; and meeting the squire and his
bride, he gave them to understand that he was lost in a
vessel belonging to Lyme, Captain Courtney, commander.
The squire and his lady gave him half-a-crown each, for
country sake, and entertained him at their house.
Our hero, exercising his profession at Milbury, where the
squire's father lived, and to whom the son was come on a
visit, Mr. Carew made application to him, and knocking at
the door, on its being opened, saw the young squire sitting
alone, whom Mr. Rhodes interrupted by saying he "was twice
in one day imposed on by that rogue Carew, of whose gang
you may likely be: besides, I do not live here, but am a
stranger." In the meantime comes the old squire, with a
bottle of wine in his hand, giving Carew a wink to let him
understand he knew him, and then very gravely inquired
into the circumstances of his misfortunes, and also of the
affairs and inhabitants of Dartmouth, from whence he pre-


THE ADVENTURES OF BAMFYLDE MOORE CAREW. 89
tended to have sailed several times, of all which he gave a
full and particular account, whereupon the old squire gave
him half-a-crown, and the young one the same; on which
Carew and the old man burst into laughter, and discovered
the whole affair, at which Squire Rhodes was a little
chagrined at being imposed on a third time; but, on recollect-
ing the expertuess of the performer, was well satisfied, and
they spent the remainder of the day in mirth and jollity.
At Bristol he dressed himself like a poor mechanic, and then
going out into the streets, acted the religious madman, talk-
ing in a raving mariner about Messrs. Whitfield and Wesley,
as though he was disordered in his mind by their preaching;
calling in a furious manuer, every step, upon the Virgin
Mary, Pontius Pilate, and Mary Magdalene, and acting
every part of a man religiously mad; sometimes walking
with his eyes fixed upon the ground, and theu on a sudden
he would break out in some passionate expressions about
religion. This behaviour greatly excited the curiosity and
compassion of the people; some of them talked to him, but
he answered everything they said in a wild and incoherent
manuer; and, as compassion is generally the forerunner of
charity, he was relieved by most of them.
Next morning he appeared in a morning gown, still acting
the madman, and addressed himself to all the posts of the
street, as if they were saints, lifting up his hands and eyes
to heaven, in a fervent but distracted manner, and making
use of so many extravagant gestures, that he astonished the
whole city. Going through Castle Street he met the Rev.
Mr. Bone, whom he accosted with his arms thrown around
him, and insisted, in a raving manner, he should tell him
who was the father of the morning star; which frightened
the parson so much, that he took to his heels and ran for it,
Carew running after him, till the parson was obliged to take
shelter in a house.
Having well recruited his pocket by this stratagem, he


90 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
left Bristol next day, and travelled towards Bath, acting the
madman all the way till he came to Bath: as soon as he came
there, he inquired for Dr. Coney's, and being directed to his
house, found two brother mendicants at the door. After
they had waited some time, the servant brought out each of
them a halfpenny, for which his brother mendicants were
very thankful. But Carew gave his halfpenny to one of
them; then knocking at the door, and the maid coming out
again, "Tell your master," says he, " I am not a halfpenny
man, but that my name is Bamfylde Moore Carew, king of
the mendicants;" which being tohl, the doctor came out
with one of his daughters and gave him sixpence and a mug
of drink, for which he returned them thanks.
Mr. Carew happening to be in the city of Wells on a
Sunday, was told the bishop was to preach that morning,
on which he slipped on a black waistcoat and morning gowu,
and ran out to meet the bishop as he was walking in pro-
cession, and addressed himself to him as a poor unhappy man,
whoso misfortunes had turned his brains; which the bishop
hearing gave him half-a-crown.
It was in Newcastle-upon-Tyne that he became enamoured
with the daughter of Mr. Glady, an eminent apothecary
and surgeon there. This young lady had charms sufficient
to captivate the heart of any man susceptible of love; and
they made so deep an impression upon him, that they wholly
effaced every object which before had created any desire in
him, and never permitted any other to raise them afterwards;
for, wonderful to tell, we have, after about thirty years' en-
joyment, seen him lament her occasional absence, almost
with tears, and talk of her with all the fondness of one who
has been in love with her but three days. Our hero tried
all love's persuasions with his fair one in an honourable way,
and, as his person was very engaging and his appearance
genteel, he did not find her greatly averse to his proposals.
As he was aware that his being of the community of gipsies


THE ADVENTUHKS OV UAMKYLDE MOORE C.
might prejudice her against him, without exami
passed with her for the mate of a collier's vessel, in >v
was supported by Captain Lawn, in whose vessel th
sail; and the very winds being willing to favour -
happy lovers, they had an exceedingly quick passage
Dartmouth, where they landed. In a few days they set o
for Bath, where they lawfully solemnized their nuptia
with great gaiety and splendour; and nobody at that timt
could conjecture who they were, which was the cause of
much speculation and false surmises.
Some time after this he took his passage at Folkstone, in
Kent, for Boulogne, in France, where he arrived safe and
proceeded to Paris and other noted cities of that kingdom.
His habit was now tolerably good, his countenance grave,
his behaviour sober and decent—pretending to be a Roman
Catholic, who had left England, his native country, out of an
ardent zeal for spending his days in the bosom of the Catholic
church. This story readily gained belief: his zeal was uni-
versally applauded, and handsome contributions made for
him. But, at the time he was so zealous a Roman Catholic,
with a little change of habit, he used to address those English
he heard of in any place, as a Protestant and sh i p wrecked sea-
man; and had the good fortune to meet with an English
physician at Paris, to whom he told, this deplorable tale,
who not only relieved him very handsomely, but recommended
him to that noble pattern of unexhausted benevolence, Mrs.
Horner, who was then on her travels, from whom he received
ten guineas, and from some other company with her five
more.
It was about this time he became acquainted with the
Hon. Sir William Weem, in the following manner:—
Being at Watchett, in Somersetshire, near the seat of that
gentleman, he resolved to pay him a visit. Putting on,
therefore, a jacket and a pair of trousers, he made the best
of his way to Sir William's seat, and luckily met Sir William,


AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
agbroke, and several other gentlemen and clergy,
jme commanders of vessels, walkiug in the park,
approached Sir William with a great deal of seeming
alniess and respect, and with much modesty acquainted
, he was a Silverton man, that he was the son of one of
.i tenants named Moore—had been to Newfoundland, and
i his passage homeward, the vessel was run down by a
French ship in a fog, and only he and two more were
javed; but being put on board an Irish vessel, were carried
into Ireland, and from thence landed at Watchett. Sir
William hearing this, asked him a great many questions
concerning the inhabitants of Silverton, who were most of
them his own tenants, and of the principal gentlemen in the
neighbourhood; all whom Carew was well acquainted with
and therefore gave satisfactory answers. Sir William at
last asked him if he knew Bickley, and if he knew the
parson thereof. Carew replied that he knew him very well,
and so indeed he might as it was no other than his own
father. Sir William then inquired what family he had, and
whether he had not a son named Bamfylde, and what be-
came of him. "Your honour," replied he, "means the beggar
and dog-stealer—I don't know what has become of him, but
it is a wonder if he is not hanged by this time." "Ho, I
hope not," replied Sir William, " I should be glad, for his
family's sake, to see him at my house." Having satisfac-
torily answered many other questions, Sir William generously
relieved him with a guinea, and Lord Bolingbroke followed
his example; the other gentlemen and clergy contributed
according to their different ranks. Sir William then ordered
him to go to his house and tell the butler to entertain him,
which he accordingly did, and set himself down with great
comfort.
Having heard that young Lord Clifford, his first cousin
(who had just returned from his travels abroad), was at his
seat at Callington, about four miles from Bridge water, he


THE ADVENTURES OF BAMFYLDE MOORE CAREW. 93
resolved to pay him a visit . In his way thither resided
parson Carson, who, being one whom nature had made up in
a hurry without a heart, Mr. Carew had never been able to
obtain anything off him, even under the most moving
appearance of distress, but a small cup of drink. Stopping
now in his way, he found the parson was gone to Lord
Clifford's; but, .being saluted at the door by a fine black
spaniel, with almost as much crustiness as he would have
been had his master been at home, he thought himself under
no stronger obligation of observing the strict laws of honour,
than the parson did of hospitality; and therefore soon
charmed the crossness of the spaniel and made him follow
him to Bridgewater.
Having secured the spaniel and passed the night merrily
at Bridgewater, he set out the next morning for Lord
Clifford's, and in his way called upon the parson again,
who very crustily told him he had lost his dog, and
supposed some of his gang had stolen him; to which Mr.
Carew very calmly replied, "What was he to his dog, or
what was his dog to. him? if he would make him drink it
was well, for he was very dry." At last, with the use of
much rhetoric, he got a cup of small drink; then, taking
leave of him, he went to the Red Lion, in the same parish,
where he stayed some time. In the meantime, down ran the
parson to my Lord Clifford's, to acquaint him that Mr. Carew
was in the parish and to advise him to take care of his dogs;
so that Mr. Carew, coming down immediately after, found a
servant with one dog in his arms, and another with another,
here one stood whistling and another calling, and both my
lord and his brother were running about to seek after their
favourites.*
Mr. Carew asked my lord what was the meaning of this
hurry, and if his dogs were cripples, because he saw several
carried in the servants' arms, adding, he hoped his lordship
did not imagine he was come to steal any of them. Upon
7


94 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
which his lordship told him, that parson Carson had advised
him to be careful, as he had lost his spaniel but the day
before. "It may be so," replied he, "the parson knows but
little of me, or the laws of our community, if he is ignorant
that with us ingratitude is unknown, and the property of
our friends always sacred." His lordship, hearing this, en-
tertained him very handsomely, and both himself and his
brother made him a present.
On his return home, he reflected how idly he had spent
the prime of life; and recovering from a severe illness, he
came to a resolution of resigning the Egyptian sceptre. The
assembly, finding him determined, reluctantly acquiesced,
and he departed amidst the applause and sighs of his
subjects.
Our adventurer, finding the air of the town not rightly to
agree with him, and the death of some of his relations render-
ing his circumstances quite easy, he retired to the western
parts, to a neat purchase he had made, and there he ended his
days, beloved and esteemed by all; leaving his daughter (his
wife dying some time before him) a genteel fortune, who was
married to a neighbouring young gentleman.


COMICAL SAYINGS OF PADDY FROM CORK. 95
THE
COMICAL SAYINGS
OF
PADDY FROM CORK
WITH HIS
COAT BUTTONED BEHIND
Being an Elegant Conference between English Tom and
Irish Teague;
WITH PADDY'S CATECHISM,
And his Supplication when a Mountain Sailor.
'. Part I.
Tom. Good morrow, sir. This is a very cold day.
Teag. .Arra, dear honey, yesternight was a very cold
morning.
Tom. Well, brother traveller, of what nation art thou?
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I came from my own kingdom. ,.
Tom. Why, I know that; but where is thy kingdom?'
Teag. Allelieu, dear honey, don't you know Cork in
Ireland?
Tom. You fool, Cork is not a kingdom, but a city.
Teag. Then, dear shoy, I'm sure it is iu a kingdom.
Tom. And what is the reason you have come and left
your own dear country?
Teag. Arra, dear honey, by Shaint Patrick, they have got
such comical laws in our country that they will put a man
to death in perfect health ; so, to be free and plain with you,
neighbour, I was obliged to come away, for I did not choose
to stay among such a people that can hang a poor man when
they please, if he either steals, robs, or kills a man.


96 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Tom. Ay, but I take you to be more of an honest man
than to steal, rob, or kill a man.
Teag. Honest, I am perfectly honest . When I was but a
child my mother would have trusted me with a house full
of mill-stones.
Tom. What was the matter? Was you guilty of
nothing?
Teag. Arra, dear honey, I did harm to nobody, but
fancied an old gentleman's gun, and afterwards made it my
own.
Tom. Very well, boy, and did you keep it so?
Teag. Keep it? I would have kept it with all my heart
while I lived. Death itself could not have parted us; but
the old rogue, the gentleman, being a justice of peace him-
self, had me tried for the rights of it, and how I came by it,
and so took it again.
Tom. And how did you clear yourself without punish-
ment?
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I told him a parcel of lies, but they
would not believe me, for I said that I got it from my father
when it was a little pistol, and I had kept it till it had
grown a gun, and was designed to use it well until it had
grown a big cannon, and then sell it to the military. They
all fell a-laughing at me as I had been a fool, and bade me
go home to my mother and clean the potatoes.
Tom. How long is it since you left your own country?
Teag. Arra, dear honey, I do not mind whether it be a
fortnight or four months; but I think myself it is a long
time. They tell me my mother is dead since, but I won't
believe it until I get a letter from her own hand, for she is
a very good scholar, suppose she can neither write nor read.
Tom. Was you ever in England before?
Teag. Ay, that I was, and in Scotland too.
Tom. And were they kind to you when you were in
Scotland?


COMICAL SAYINGS OF PADDY FROM CORK. 97
Teag. They were that kind that they kicked me, and the
reason was because I would not pay the whole of the liquor
that was drunk in the company, though the,landlord and
his two sons got mouthful about of it all, and I told them
it was a trick upon travellers first to drink his liquor, and
then to kick him out of doors.
Tom. I really think they have used you badly, but could
you not beat them.
Teag. That's what I did, beat them all to their own con-
tentment; but there was one of them stronger than me who
would have killed me if the other two had not pulled me
away, and I had to run for it till his passion was over.
Then they made us drink and gree again; we shook hands,
and made a bargain never to harm other more; but this
bargain did not last long, for, as I was kissing his mouth,
by Shaiut Patrick I bit his nose, which caused him to beat
me very sore for my pains.
Tom. Well, Paddy, what calling was you when in Scot-
land?
Teag. Why, sir, I was no business at all, but what do you
call the green tree that's like a whin bush, people makes a
thing to sweep the house of it!
Tom. O, yes, Paddy, they call it the broom.
Teag. Ay, ay, you have it, I was a gentleman's broom,
only waited on his horses, and washed the dishes for the
cook; and when my master rode a-hunting I went behind
with the dogs.
Tom. O, yes, Paddy, it was the groom you mean. But I
fancy you was cook's mate or kitchen boy.
Teag. No, no, it was the broom that I was; and if I had ,
stayed there till now I might have been advanced as high as
my master, for the ladies loved me so well that they laughed
at me.
Tom. They might admire you for a fool.
Teag. What, sir, do you imagine that I am not a fool?


98 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
No, no; my master asked counsel of me in all his matters, and
I always give him a reason for everything. I told him one
morning that he went too soon to the hunting, that the
hares were not got out of their beds, and neither the barking
of horns nor the blowing of dogs could make them rise, it
was such a cold morning that night; so they all ran away
that we catched, when we did not see them. Then my
master told my words to several gentlemen that were at
dinner, and they admired me for want of judgment, for my
head was all of a lump, adding they were going a-fishing
along with my master and me in the afternoon; but I told
them that it was a very unhappy thing for any man to go
a-hunting in the morning and a-fishing in the afternoon.
They would try it, but they had better stayed at home, for it
came on a most terrible fine night of south-west rain, and
even down wind; so the fishes got all below the water to
keep themselves dry from the shower, and we cutched them
all, but got none.
Tom. How long did you serve that gentleman, Paddy?
Teag. Arra, dear honey, I was with him six weeks, and
he beat me seven times.
Tom. For what did he beat you? Was it for your
madness and foolish tricks?
Teag. Dear shoy, it was not, but for being too inquisitive,
and going sharply about business. First, he sent me to the
post office to inquire if there were any letters for him; so
when I came there, said I, " Is there any letters here for my
master to day?" Then they asked who was my master.
"Sir," said I, "it is very bad manners in you to ask any
gentleman's name." At this they laughed, mocking me, and
said they could give me none if I would not tell my master's
name; so I returned to my master and told him the impu-
dence of the fellow, who would give me no letters unless I
would tell him your name, master. My master at this flew
in a passion, and kicked me down stairs, saying, "Go, you


COMICAL SAYINf i OF PADDY FROM CORK. 99
rogue, and tell my name duectly. How can the gentleman
give letters when he knows not who is asking for them?"
Then I returned and told my master's name; so they told
me there was one for him. I looked at it, being very small,
and, asking the price of it, they told me it was sixpence.
"Sixpence," said I; "will you take sixpence for that small
thing, and selliug bigger ones for twopence. Faith, I am not
such a big fool. You think to cheat me now. This is not a
conscionable way of dealing. I'll acquain t my master with
it first." So I came and told my mast er how they would
have sixpence for his letter, and was selling bigger ones for
twopence. He took up my head and broke his cane with
it, calling me a thousand fools, saying the man was more
just than to take anything but the »'ight for it; but I was
sure there was none of them right, b iying and selling such
dear pennyworths. So I came again for my dear sixpence
letter; and, as the fellow was shuttiing through a parcel of
them, seeking for it again, to make the best of a dear
market, I picked up two, and home I comes to my master,
thinking he would be pleased with what I had done.
'Now," said I, "master, I think I have put a trick upon
them fellows for selling the letter to you." "What have
you done." "I have only taken other two letters. Here's
one for you, master, to help your dear pennyworth, aud I'll
send the other to my mother to see whether she be dead or
alive, for she's always angry I don't write to her." I had
not the word well spoken till he got up his stick and beat
me heartily for it, and sent me back to the fellows again,
with the two. I had a very ill will to go, but nobody would
buy them of me.
Tom. Well, Paddy, I think you was to blame, and your
master, too, for he ought to have taught you how to go
about these affairs, and not beat you so.
Teag. Arra, dear honey, I had too much wit of my own
to be teached by him, or anybody else. He began to in-


100 AMUSING PROSE CI \P-BOOKS.
struct me after that how I should serve the table, and such
nasty things as those. One night I took ben a roasted fish
in one hand and a piece of bread in the other. The old
gentleman was so saucy he would not take it, and told me
I should bring nothing to him without a trencher below it.
The same night, as lie was going to bed, he called for his
slippers; so I clapt a trencher below the slippers, and ben I
goes. No sooner did I enter the room than he threw the
trencher at me, w'.'ich broke both my head and the trencher
at one blow. "Now," said I, " the evil one is in my master
altogether, for what he commands at one time he counter-
mands at another." Next day I went with him to the
market to buy a sack of potatoes. I went to the potato-
monger, and asked wf at he took for the full of a Scot's cog.
He weighed them in. He asked no less than fourpence.
"Fourpence!" said I; "if I were but in Dublin T could get
the double of that for nothing, and in Cork and Linsale far
cheaper. Them is but small things like pease," said I, " but
the potatoes in my country is as big as your head—fine
meat, all made up in blessed mouthfuls." The potato mer-
chant called me a liar, and my master called me a fool; so the
one fell a-kicking me and the other a-cuffing me. I was
in such bad bread among them that I called myself both a
liar and a fool to get off alive.
Tom. And how did you carry your potatoes home from
the market t
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I carried the horse and them both,
besides a big loaf, and two bottles of wine; for I put the
old horse on my back, and drove the potatoes before me;
and when I tied the load to the loaf, I had nothing to do
but to carry the bottle in my hand; but bad luck to the
way as I came home, for a nail out of the heel of my foot
sprung a leak in my brogue, which pricked the very bone,
bruised the skin, and made my brogue itself to blood; and I
having no hammer by me, but a hatchet I left at home, I


COMICAL SAVINGS OF PADDY FROM CORK. 101
had to beat down the nail with the bottom of the bottle;
and by the book, ".ear shoy, it broke to pieces, and scattered
the wine in my mouth.
Tom. And how did you recompense your master for the
loss of the bottle of wine?
Tea A —n dear shoy, I had a mind to cheat him, and
myself too, ior I took the bottle to,a blacksmith, and desired
him to mend it, that I might go to the butcher and get it full
of bloody water; but he told me he could not work in any-
thing but steel and iron. "Arra," said I, "if I were in my
own kingdom, I could get a blacksmith who would make a
bottle out of a stone, and a stone out of nothing."
Tom. And how did you trick your master out of it?
Teag. Why, the old rogue began to chide me, asking me
what way I broke it. Then I held up the other as high as
my head, and let it fall to the ground on a stone, which
broke it all to pieces likewise. "Now," said I, "master,
that's the way," and he beat me very heartily until I had to
shout out mercy and murder all at once.
Tom. Why did you not leave him when he used you so
badly?
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I could never think to leave him
while I could eat; he gave me so many good victuals, and
promised to prefer me to be his own bone-picker. But, by
Shaint Patrick, 1 had to run away with my life or all was
done, else I had lost my dear shoul and body too by him,
and then come home much poorer than I went away. The
great big bitch dog, which was my master's best beloved,
put his head into a pitcher to lick out some milk, and
when it was in he could not get it out; and I, to save the
pitcher, got the hatchet and cut off the dog's head, and then
I had to break the pitcher to get out the head. By this I
lost both the dog and the pitcher. My master, hearing of
this, swore he would cut the head off me, for the poor
dog was made useless, and could not see to follow anybody


102 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
for want of his eyes. And when I heard of this, I ran away
with my own head, for, if I had wanted it, I had lost my
eyes too, then I would not have seen ti:.. road to Port
Patrick, through Glen-nap; but, by Shaint Patrick, I came
home alive in spite of them.
Tom. O, rarely done, Paddy; you behaved like a man!
But what is the reason that you Irish people swear always
by Saint Patrick?
Teag. Arra, dear honey, he was the best shaint in the
world, the father of all good people in the kingdom. He
has a great kindness for an Irishman when he hears him
calling on his name.
Tom. But, Paddy, is Saint Patrick yet alive?
Teag. Arra, dear honey, I don't know whether he be dead
or alive, but it is a long time since they killed him. The
people all turned heathens, but he would not change his
profession, and was going to run the country with it, and
for taking the gospel away to England, so the barbarous
Tories of Dublin cutted off his head; and he swimmed over
to England, and carried his head in his teeth.
Part II.
Tom.. How did you get safe out of Scotland?
Teag. By the law, dear honey. When I came to Port
Patrick, and saw my own kingdom, I knew I was safe at
home, but I was clean dead, and almost drowned before I
could get riding over the water; for I, with nine passengers
more, leapt into a little young boat, having but four men
dwelling in a little house in the one end of it, which was all
thacked with deals; and, after they had pulled up her
tether-stick, and laid her long halter over her mane, they
pulled up a long sheet, like three pair of blankets, to the
rigging of the house, and the wind blew in that, which made
her gallop up one hill and down another, till I thought she
would have run to the world's end.


COMICAL SAYINGS OF PADDY FROM CORK. 103
Tom. Well, Paddy, and where did you go when you came
to Ireland again?
Teag. Arra, dear honey, and where did I go but to my
own dear cousin, who was now become very rich by the
death of the old buck, his father, who died but a few weeks
before I went over, and the parish had to bury him out of
pity; it did not cost him a farthing.
Tom. And what entertainment did you get there?
Teag. O, mj- dear shoy, I was kindly used as another
gentleman, and would have stayed there long enough, but
when a man is poor his friends think little of him. I told
him I was going to see my brother Harry. "Harry!" said.
he, "Harry is dead." "Dead!" said I, "and who killed
him?" "Why," said he, " Death." "Allelieu, dear honey,
and where did he kill him ?" said I. "In his bed," says he.
"Arra, dear honey," said I, "if he had been upon Newry
mountains, with his brogues on, and his broad sword by his
side, all the deaths in Ireland had not have killed him. O
that impudent fellow Death. If he had let him alone till he
died for want of butter milk and potatoes, I am sure he had
lived all the days of his life."
Tom. In all your travels when abroad, did you never see
none of your countrymen to inform you of what happened
at home concerning your relations?
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I saw none but Tom Jack, one day
in the street; but when I came to him, it was not him, but
one just like him.
Tom. On what account did you go a-travelling?
Teag. Why, a recruiting sergeant listed me to be a
captain, and after all advanced me no higher than a soldier
itself, but only he called me his dear countryman recruit,
for I did not know what the regiment was when I saw
them. I thought they were all gentlemen's sons and col-
legioners, when I saw a box like a Bible upon their
bellies, until I saw G for King George upon it, and


104 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
R for God bless him. "Ho, ho," said I, "I shan't be
long here."
Tom. O, then, Paddy, you deserted from them?
Teag. That's what I did, and ran to the mountains like a
buck, and ever since when I see any soldiers I close my
eyes, lest they should look and know me.
Tom. And what exploits did you when you was a soldier?
Teag. Arra, dear honey, I killed a man.
Tom. And how did you do that?
Teag. Arra, dear honey, when he dropt his sword I drew
mine, and advanced boldly to him, and then cutted off his foot-
Tom. O, then, what a big fool was you, for you ought
first to have cut off his head.
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, his head was cutted off before I
engaged him, else I had not done it.
Tom. O, then, Paddy, you acted like a fool; but you are
not such a big fool as many take you to be. You might
pass for a philosopher.
Teag. A fulusipher. My father was a fulusipher; besides,
he was a man under great authority by law, condemning
the just and clearing the guilty. Do you know how they
call the horse's mother?
Tom. \Vhy, they call her a mare.
Teag. A mare, ay, very well minded. My father was a
mare in Cork.
Tom. And what riches was left you by the death of your
mother?
Teag. A bad luck to her own barren belly, for she lived in
great plenty, and died in great poverty; devoured up all or
she died, but two hens and a pockful of potatoes—a poor
estate for an Irish gentleman, in faith.
Tom. And what did you make of the hens and potatoes?
Did you sow them?
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I soWed them in my belly, and
sold the hens to a cadger.


COMICAL SAYINGS OF PADDY FROM CORK. 105
Tom. What business did your mother follow after?
Teag. Greatly in the merchant way.
Tom. And what sort of goods did she deal in?
Teag. Dear honey, she went through the country and sold
small fishes, onions, and apples; bought hens and eggs, and
then hatched them herself. I remember of a long-necked
cock she had, of an oversea brood, that stood on the midden
and picked all the stars out of the north-west, so they were
never so thick there since.
Tom. Now, Paddy, that's a bull surpasses all; but is there
none of that cock's offspring alive now?
Tea,g. Arra, dear shoy, I don't think there are; but it is a
pity but that they had, for they would fly with people above
the sea, which would put the use of ships out of fashion,
and nobody would be drowned at all.
Tom. Very well, Paddy, but in all your travels did you
ever get a wife?
Teag. Ay, that's what I did, and a wicked wife, too; and,
my dear shoy, I can't tell whether she is gone to Purgatory
or the parish of Pig-trantrum, for she told me she should
certainly die the first opportunity she could get, as this
present evil world was not worth the waiting on, so she
would go and see what good things is in the world to come;
so when that old rover called the Fever came raging over
the whole kingdom, she went away and died out of spite,
leaving me nothing.
Tom,. O, but, Paddy, you ought to have gone to a doctor,
and got some pills and physic for her
Teag. By Shaint Patrick, I had as good a pill of my own
as any doctor in the kingdom could give her.
Tom. O, you fool, that is not what I mean. You ought
to have brought the doctor to feel her pulse, and let blood
off her if he thought it needful.
Teag. Yes, that's what I did, for I ran to the doctor when-
ever she died, and sought something for a dead or dying


COMICAL SAYINGS OF PADDY FROM CORK. 107
Teag. Weep for her! By Shaint Patrick, I would not
weep, nor yet be sorry, suppose my own mother and all the
women in Ireland had died seven years before I was born.
Tom. What did you do with your children when she
died?
Teag. Do you imagine I was such a big fool as bury my
children alive along with a dead woman? Arra, dear honey,
we always commonly give nothing along with a dead person
but an old shirt, a winding sheet, a big hammer, with a long
candle, and an Irish silver threepenny piece.
Tom. Dear Paddy, and what do they make of all these
things?
Teag. Then, Tom, since you are so inquisitive, you must
go ask the priest.
Tom. What did you make of your children, Paddy?
Teag. And what should I make of them? Do you imagine
that I should give them into the hands of the butchers, as
they had been a parcel of young hogs. By Shaint Patrick,'
I had more unnaturality in me than to put them in an
hospital as others do.
Tom. No; I suppose you would leave them with your
friends?
Teag. Ay, ay, a poor man's friends is sometimes worse
than a professed enemy. The best friend I ever had in the
world was my own pocket while my money lasted; but I
left two babes between the priest's door and the parish
church, because I thought it was a place of mercy, and then
set out for England in quest of another fortune.
Tom. I fancy, Paddy, you came off with what they call a
moonshine flitting.
Teag. You lie like a thief now, for I did not see sun,
moon, nor stars, all the night then, £ov I set out for Cork at
the dawn of night, and I had travelled twenty miles all
but twelve before gloaming in the morning.
Tom. And where did you go to take shipping?


108 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Teag. Arra, dear honey, I came to a country village called
Dublin, as big a city as any market town in all England,
where I got myself aboard of a little young boat with a
parcel of fellows and a long leather bag. I supposed them
to be tinklers, until I asked what they carried in that
leather sack. They told me it was the English mail they
were going over with. "Then," said I, "is the milns so
scant in England that they must send over their corn to
Ireland to grind it?" The comical, cunning fellows per-
suaded me it was so. Then I went down to a little house
below the water, hard by the rigg-back of the boat, and
laid me down on their leather sack, where I slept myself
almost to death with hunger. And, dear Tom, to tell you
plainly, when I waked I did not know where I was, but
thought I was dead and buried, for I found nothing all
round me but wooden walls and timber above.
Tom. And how did you come to yourself to know where
you was at last?
Teag. By the law, dear shoy, I scratched my head in a
hundred parts, and then set me down to think upon it; so
1 minded it was my wife that was dead, and not me, and
that I was alive in the young boat with the fellows that
carries over the English meal from the Irish milns.
Tom. Oh, then, Paddy, I am sure you was glad when you
found yourself alive?
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I was veiy sure I was alive, but I
did not think to live long, so I thought it was better for me
to steal and be hanged than to live all my days and die
directly with hunger at last.
Tom. Had you no meat nor money along with you?
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I gave all the money to the captain
of the house, or gudeman of the ship, to take me into the
sea or over to England; and when I was like to eat my
old brogues for want of victuals, I drew my hanger and cut
the lock of the leather sack to get a lick of their meal; but,


COMICAL SAYINGS OF PADDY FROM CORK. 109
allelieu, dear shoy, I found neither meal nor seeds, but a
parcel of papers and letters—a poor morsel for a hungry
man.
Tom. Oh, then, Paddy, you laid down your honesty for
nothing.
Teag. Ay, ay, I was a great thief, but got nothing to
steal.
Tom. And how did you get victuals at last?
Teag. Allelieu, dear honey, the thoughts of meat and
drink, death and life, and everything else, was out of mind.
I had not a thought but one.
Tom. And what was that, Paddy?
Teag. To go down among the fishes and become a whale;
then I would have lived, at ease all my days, having nothing
to do but to drink salt water and eat caller oysters.
Tom. What was you like to be drowned again?
Teag. Ay, ay, drowned, as cleanly drowned as a fish, for
the sea blew very loud, and the wind ran so high, that we
were all cast safe on shore, and not one of us drowned
at all.
Tom,. Where did you go when you came on shore?
Teag. Arra, dear honey, I was not able to go anywhere.
You might cast a knot on my belly, I was so hollow in the
middle, so I went into a gentleman's house and told him the
bad fortune I had of being drowned between Ireland and
the foot of his garden, where we came all safe ashore. But
all the comfort I got from him was a word of truth.
Tom. And what was that, Paddy?
Teag. Why, he told me if I had been a good boy at home
I needed not to have gone so far to push my fortune with
an empty pocket, to which I answered, " And what magnifies
that so long as I am a good workman at no trade at all?"
Tom. I suppose, Paddy, the gentleman would make you
dine with him?
Teag. I really thought I was when I saw them roasting
8


110 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-HOOKS.
and skinning so many black chickens, which was nothing
but a few dead crows they were going to eat. "Ho.ho,"
said I, " them is but dry meat at the best. Of all the fowls
that flee commend me to the wing of an ox; but all that
came to my share was a piece of boiled herring and a roasted
potato. That was the first bit of bread I ever ate in Eng-
land.
Tom. Well, Paddy, what business did you follow after in
England when you was so poor?
Teag. What, sir, do you imagine I was poor when I came
over on such an honourable occasion as to list, and bring
myself to no preferment at all? As I was an able-bodied
man in the face, I thought to be made a brigadeer, a grande-
deer, or a fuzeleer, or even one of them blew-gowns that
holds the flerry stick to the bung-hole of the big cannons
when they let them off to fright away the French. I was
as sure as no man alive ere I came from Cork, the least pre-
ferment I could get was to be riding master to a regiment
of marines, or one of the black horse itself
Tom. And where in England was it you listed?
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I was going through a little
country village. The streets were very sore by reason of
the hardness of my feet and lameness of my brogues, so I
went but very slowly across the streets. From port to port
is a pretty long way; but I, being weary, thought nothing of
it. Then the people came all crowding to me as I had been
a world's wonder, or the wandering Jew, for the rain blew
in my face and the wind wetted all my belly, which caused me
.to turn the back of my coat before and my buttons behind,
which was a good safeguard to my body, and the starvation
of my naked body, for I had not a good shirt.
Tom. I am sure, then, Paddy, they would take you for a
fool?
Teag. No, no, sir; they admired me for my wisdom, for I
always turned my buttons before when the wind blew


COMICAL SAYINGS OF PADDY FROM CORK. Ill
behind; but I wondered how the people knew my name
and where I came from, for every one told another that was
Paddy from Cork. I suppose they knew my face by seeing
my name in the newspapers.
Tom. Well, Paddy, what business did you follow in the
village?
Teag. To be sure I was not idle, working at nothing at
all, till a decruiting sergeant came to town with two or
three fellows along with him, one beating on a fiddle, and
another playing on a drum, toasing their airs through the
streets, as if they were going to be married. I saw them
courting none but young men, so, to bring myself to no
preferment at all, I listed for a soldier. I was too big for a
grandedeer.
Tom. What listing money did you get, Paddy?
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, I got five thirteens and a pair of
English brogues. The guinea, and the rest of the gold, was
sent to London to the King, my master, to buy me new
shirts, a cockade, and common treasing for my hat . They
made me swear the malicious oath of devilry against the
king, the colours, and my captain, telling me if ever I desert
and not run away that I should be shot, and then whipt to
death through the regiment
.
Tom. No, Paddys it is first whipt. and then shot, you
mean.
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, it is all one thing at last; but it is
best to be shot and then whipt—the cleverest way to die
I'll warrant you.
Tom.. How much pay did you get, Paddy?
Teag. Do you know the little tall fat sergeant that feed
me to be a soldier?
Tom. And how should; I know them I never saw, you
fool?
Teag. Dear shoy, you may know him whether you see
him or not. His face is all bored in holes with the small-


COMICAL SAYINGS OF PADDY FROM CORK.
113
Tom. 0 then, Paddy, how did you end the matter?
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, by the nights of Shaint Patrick
and help of my brogues, I both ended it and mended it, for
the next night before that, I gave them leg bail for my
fidelity, and went about the country a fortune-teller, dumb
and deaf as I was not.
Tom. How old was you, Paddy, when you was a soldier
last?
Teag. Arra, dear honey, I was three dozen all but two,
and it is only two years since, so I want only four years of
three dozen yet, and when I live six dozen more, I'll be
older than I am, I warrant you.
Tom. 0 but, Paddy, by your account you are three dozen
of years old already.
Teag. O what for a big fool are you now, Tom, when you
count the years I lay sick; which time I count no time at
all.
PADDY'S NEW CATECHISM.
Tom. Of all the opinions professed in religion tell me
now, Paddy, of what profession art thou?
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, my religion was too weighty a
matter to carry out of mine own country: I was afraid that
you English Presbyterians should pluck it away from me.
Tom. What, Paddy, was your religion such a load that
you could not carry it along with you?
Teag. Yes, that it was, but I carried it always about with
me when at home, my sweet cross upon my dear breast,
bound to my dear button hole.
Tom. And what manner of worship did you perform by
that?
Teag. Why, I adored the cross, the pope, and the priest,
cursed Oliver as black as crow, and swears myself a cut
throat against all Protestants and church of Englandmen.
Tom. And what is the matter but you would be a church
of Englandmen, or a Scotch Presbyterian yourself, Paddy?


114
AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Teag. Because it is unnatural for an Irishm an: but had
Shaint Patrick been a Presbyterian, I had been the same.
Tom. And for what reason would you be a Presbyterian
then, Paddy?
Teag. Because they have liberty to eat flesh in lent, and
everything that's fit for the belly.
Tom. What, Paddy, are you such a lover of flesh that you
would change your profession for it?
Teag. O yes, that's what I would. I love flesh of all
kinds, sheep's beef, swine's mutton, hare's flesh, and hen's
venison; but our religion is one of the hungriest in all the
world, ah! but it makes my teeth to weep, and my stomach
to water, when I see the Scotch Presbyterians, and English
churchmen, in time of lent, feeding upon bulls' and sheep's
young children.
Tom. What reward will you get when you are dead, for
punishing your stomach so while you are alive?
Teag. By Shaint Patrick I'll live like a king when I'm
dead, for I will neither pay for meat nor drink.
Tom. What, Paddy, do you think that you are to come
alive again when you are dead?
Teag. 0 yes, we that are true Roman Catholics will live
a long time after we are dead; when we die in love with the
priests, and the good people of our profession.
Tom. And what assurance can your priest give you of that?
Teag. Arra, dear shoy, our priest is a great shaint, a good
shoul, who can repeat a paternoster and Ave Maria, which
will fright the very horned devil himself, and make him run
for it, until he be like to fall and break his neck.
Tom. And what does he give you when you are dying
that makes you come alive again?
Teag. Why, he writes a letter upon our tongues, sealed
with a wafer, gives us a sacrament in our mouth, with a
pardon, and direction in our right hand, who to call for at
the ports of Purgatory.


COMICAL SAYINGS OK PADDY KllOM CORK.
115
Tom. And what money design you to give the priest for
your pardon?
Teag. Dear shoy, I wish I had first the money he would
take for it, I would rather drink it myself, and then give
him both my bill and my honest word, payable in the other
world.
Tom. And how then are you to get a passage to the other
world, or who is to carry you there?
Teag. O, my dear shoy, Tom, you know nothing of the
matter: for when I die, they will bury my body, flesh,
blood, dirt, and bones, only my skin will be blown up full
of wind and spirit, my dear shoul I mean; and then I will
be blown over to the other world on the wings of the wind;
and after that I'll never be killed, hanged, nor drowned, nor
yet die in my bed, for when any hits me a blow, my new
body will play buff upon it like atladder.
Tom. But what way will you go to the new world, or
where is it?
Teag. Aria, dear shoy, the priest knows where it is, but
I do not, but the Pope of Rome keeps tho outer-port, Shaint
Patrick the inner-port, and gives us a direction of the way
to Shaint Patrick's palace, which stands on the head of the
Stalian loch, where I'll have no more to do but chap at the
gate.
Tom. What is the need for chapping at the gate, is it not
always open?
Teag. Dear shoy, you know little about it, for there is
none can enter but red hot Irishmen, for when I call Alle-
lieu, dear honey, Shaint Patrick countenance your own dear
countryman if you will, then the gates will be opened
directly for me, for he knows and loves an Irishman's voice,
as he loves his own heart.
Tom. And what entertainment will you get when you
are in?
Teag. O, my dear, we are all kept there until a general


116 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
review, which is commonly once in the week; and then we
are drawn up like as many young recruits, and all the black-
guard scoundrels is picked out of the ranks, and one half of
them is sent away to the Elysian fields, to curry the weeds
from among the potatoes, the other half of them to the River
sticks, to catch fishes for Shaint Patrick's table, and them
that is owing the priests any money is put in the black
hole, and then given to the hands of a great black bitch of a
devil, which is keeped for a hangman, who whips them up
and down the smoky dungeon every morning for six
months.
Tom. Well, Paddy, are you to do as much justice to a
Protestant as a Papist?
Teag. O, my dear shoy, the most justice we are com-
manded to do a Protestant, is to whip and torment them
until they confess themselves in the Romish faith; and then
cut their throats that they may die believers.
Tom. What business do you follow after at present?
Teag. Ana, dear shoy, I am a mountain sailor and my
supplication is as follows—
paddy's humble petition, or supplication.
Good Christian people, behold me a man! who has com'd
through a world of wonders, a hell full of hardships, dangers
by sea, and dangers by land, and yet I am alive; you may
see my hand crooked like a fowl's foot, and that is no
wonder at all considering my sufferings and sorrows. Oh!
oh! oh! good people. I was a man in my time who had
plenty of the gold, plenty of the silver, plenty of the clothes,
plenty of the butter, the beer, beef, and biscuit. And now
I have nothing: being taken by the Turks and relieved by
the Spaniards, lay sixty-six days at the siege of Gibraltar,
and got nothing to eat but sea wreck and raw mussels; put
to sea for our safety, cast upon the Barbarian coast, among
the wicked Algerines, where we were taken and tied with


DICK WHITTIXGTON AND HIS CAT.
117
tugs and taddera, horse Jocks, and cow chains: then cut and
castcate yard and testicle quite away, put in your hand and
feel how every female's made smooth by the sheer bone,
where nothing is to be seen but what is natural. Then
made our escape to the desart wild wilderness of Arabia;
where we lived among the wild asses, upon wind, sand, and
sapless ling. Afterwards put to sea in the hull of an old
house, where we were tossed above and below the clouds,
being driven through thickets and groves by fierce, coarse,
calm, and contrary winds: at last, was cast upon Salisbury
plains, where our vessel was dashed to pieces against a cab-
bage stock. And now my humble petition to you, good
Christian people, is for one hundred of your beef, one
hundred of your butter, another of your cheese, a cask of
your biscuit, a tun of your beer, a keg of your rum, with a
pipe of your wine, a lump of your gold, a piece of your
silver, a few of your half-pence or farthings, a waught of
your butter-milk, a pair of your old breeches, stockings, or
shoes, even a chaw of tobacco for charity's sake.
THE HISTORY
OF
DICK WHITTINGTON
AND
HIS CAT.
In the reign of the famous King Edward the Third, there
was a little boy called Dick Whittington, whose father and
mother died when he was very young, so that he remem-
bered nothing at all about them, and was left a dirty little


118 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
fellow running about a country village. As poor Dick was
not old enough to work, he was in a sorry plight. He got
but little for his dinner, and sometimes nothing at all for his
breakfast, for the people who lived in the village were very
poor themselves, and could spare him little more than the
parings of potatoes, and now and then a hard crust
.
For all this, Dick Whittington was a very sharp boy, and
was always listening to what every one talked about.
On Sundays he never failed to get near the farmers, as
they sat talking on the tombstones in the churchyard before
the parson was come; and once a week you might be sure
to see little Dick leaning against the sign-post of the village
ale-house, where people stopped to drink as they came from
the next market town; and whenever the barber's shop-
door was open Dick listened to all the news he told his
customers.
In this manner Dick heard of the great city called
London; how the people who lived there were all fine
gentlemen and ladies; that there were singing and music
in it all day long; and that the streets were paved all over
with gold.
One day a waggoner, with a large waggon and eight
horses, all with bells at their heads, drove through the
village while Dick was lounging near his favourite sign-
post . The thought immediately struck him that it must be
going to the fine town of London; and taking courage he
asked the waggoner to let him walk with him by the side
of the waggon. The man, hearing from poor Dick that he
had no parents, and seeing by his ragged condition that he
could not be worse oft* told him he might go if he would;
so they set off together.
Dick got safe to London; and so eager was he to see the
fine streets paved all over with gold that he ran as fast as
his legs would carry him through several streets, expecting
every moment to come to those that were all paved with


DICK WHITTIXGTON AND HIS OAT. 119
gold, for Dick had three times seen a guinea in his own
village, and observed what a great deal of money it brought
in change; so he imagined he had only to take up some
little bits of the pavement to have as much money as he
desired.
Poor Dick ran till he was tired, and at last, finding it
grow dark, and that whichever way he turned he saw
nothing but dirt instead of gold, he sat down in a dark
corner and cried himself asleep.
Little Dick remained all night in the streets; and next
morning, finding himself very hungry, he got up and walked
about, asking those he met to give him a halfpenny to keep
him from starving; but nobody stayed to answer him, and
only two or three gave him anything, so that the poor boy
was soon in the most miserable condition. Being almost
starved to death, he laid himself down at the door of one
Mr. Fitzwarren, a great rich merchant. Here he was soon
perceived by the cook-maid, who was an ill-tempered
creature, and happened just then to be very busy dressing
dinner for her master and mistress; so, seeing poor Dick,
she called out, "What business have you there, you lazy
rogue? There is nothing else but beggars; if you do not
take yourself away, we will see how you will like a sousing
of some dish water I have here that is hot enough to make
you caper."
Just at this time Mr. Fitzwarren himself came home from
the city to dinner, and, seeing a dirty, ragged boy lying at
the door, said to him, " Why do you lie there, my lad? You
seem old enough to work. . I fear you must be somewhat
idle." "No, indeed, sir," says Whittington, "that is not
true, for I would work with all my heart, but I know
nobody, and I believe I am very sick for want of food."
"Poor fellow!" answered Mr. Fitzwarren.
Dick now tried to rise, but was obliged to lie down again,
being too weak to stand, for he had not eaten anything for


120 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
three days, and was no longer able to run about and beg a
halfpenny of people in the streets; so the kind merchant
ordered that he should be taken into his house, and have a
good dinner immediately, and that he should be kept to do
what dirty work he was able for the cook.
Little Dick would have lived very happily in this worthy
family had it not been for the crabbed cook, who was finding
fault and scolding him from morning till night, and was
withal so fond of roasting and basting that, when the spit
was out of her hands, she would be at basting poor Dick's
head and shoulders with a broom, or anything else that
happened to fall in her way, till at last her ill-usage of him
was told to Miss Alice, Mr. Fitzwarren's daughter, who
asked the ill-tempered creature if she was not ashamed to
use a little friendless boy so cruelly; and added she would
certainly be turned away if she did not treat him with more
kindness.
But though the cook was so ill-tempered, Mr. Fitzwarren's
footman was quite the contrary. He had lived in the family
many years, was rather elderly, and had once a little boy of
his own, who died when about the age of Whittington, so
he could not but feel compassion for the poor boy.
As the footman was very fond of reading, he used gene-
rally iu the evening to entertain his fellow-servants, when
they had done their work, with some amusing book. The
pleasure our little hero took in hearing him made him very
much desire to learn to read too; so the next time the good-
natured footman gave him a halfpenny, he bought a horn-
book with it; and, with a little of his help, Dick soon
learned his letters, and afterwards to read.
About this time Miss Alice was going out one morning
for a walk, and the footman happening to be out of the
way, little Dick, who had received from Mr. Fitzwarren a
neat suit of clothes to go to church on Sundays, was ordered
to put them on, and walk behind her. As they walked


DICK WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT. 121
along, Miss Alice, seeing a poor woman with one child in
her arms and another'at her back, pulled out her purse, and
gave her some money; and, as she was putting it again into
her pocket, she dropped it on the ground, and walked on.
Luckily Dick, who was behind, saw what she had done,
picked it up, and immediately presented it to her.
Besides the ill-humour of the cook, which now, however,
was somewhat mended, Whittington had another hardship
to get over. This was, that his bed, which was of flock,
was placed in a garret, where there were so many holes in
the floor and walls that he never went to bed without being
awakened in his sleep by great numbers of rats and mice,
which generally ran over his face, and made such a noise
that he sometimes thought the walls were tumbling down
about him.
One day a gentleman who paid a visit to Mr. Fitzwarren
happened to have dirtied his shoes, and begged they might
be cleaned. Dick took great pains to make them shine, and
the gentleman gave him a penny. This he resolved to lay
out in buying a cat, if possible; and the next day, seeing a
little girl with a cat under her arm, he went up to her,
and asked if she would let him have it for a penny, to
which the girl replied she would with all her heart, for her
mother had more cats than she could maintain, adding that
the one she had was an excellent mouser.
This cat Whittington hid in the garret, always taking
care to carry her a part of his dinner; and in a short time
he had no further disturbance from the rats and mice, but
slept as sound as a top.
Soon after this the merchant, who had a ship ready to
sail, richly laden, and thinking it but just that all his
servants should have some chance for good luck as well as
himself, called them into the parlour, and asked them what
commodity they chose to send.
All mentioned something they were willing to venture


122 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
but poor Whittington, who, having no money nor goods,
could send nothing at all, for which reason he did not come
in with the rest; but Miss Alice, guessing what was the
matter, ordered him to be called, and offered to lay down
some money for him from her own purse; but this, the
merchant observed, would not do, for it must be something
of his own.
Upon this, poor Dick said he had nothing but a cat,
which he bought for a penny that was given him.
"Fetch thy cat, boy," says Mr. Fitzwarren, "and let
her go."
Whittington brought poor puss, and delivered her to
the captain with tears in his eyes, for he said, "He
should now again be kept awake all night by the rats and
mice."
All the company laughed at the oddity of Whittington's
adventure; and Miss Alice, who felt the greatest pity for
the poor boy, gave him some halfpence to buy another
cat
.
This, and several other marks of kindness shown him by
Miss Alice, made the ill-tempered cook so jealous of the
favours the poor boy received that she began to use him
more cruelly than ever, and constantly made game of him
for sending his cat to sea, asking him if ho thought it would
sell for as much money as would buy a halter.
At last the unhappy little fellow, being unable to bear
this treatment any longer, determined to run away from
his place. He accordingly packed up the few things that
belonged to him, and set out very early in the morning on
Allhallow Day, which is the first of November. He travelled
as far as Holloway, and there sat down on a stone, which
to this day is called Whittington's Stone, and began to con-
aider what course he should take.
While he was thus thinking what he could do, Bow Bells,
of which there were then only six, began to ring, and it


124 AMU.SIXG PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
"Oh, yes," said they, "very offensive; and the king
would give half his treasure to be free of them, for they
not only destroy his dinner, liut they disturb him even in
his chamber, so that he is obliged to be watched while he
sleeps."
The captain, who was ready to jump for joy, remembering
poor Whittington's hard case, and the cat he had entrusted
to his care, told him he had a creature on board his ship
that would kill them all.
The king was still more overjoyed than the captain.
"Bring this creature to me," says he; "and if she can really
perform what you say I will load your ship with wedges of
gold in exchange for her."
Away flew the captain, while another dinner was pro-
viding, to the ship, and, taking puss under his arm, returned
to the palace in time to see the table covered with rats and
mice, and the second dinner in a fair way to meet with the
same fate as the first.
The cat, at sight of them, did not wait for bidding, but
sprang from the captain's arms, and in a few moments laid
the greatest part of the rats and mice dead at her feet, while
the rest, in the greatest fright imaginable, scampered away
to their holes.
The king, having seen and considered of the wonderful
exploits of Mrs. Puss, and being informed' she would soon
have young ones, which might in time destroy all the rats
and mice in the country, bargained with the captain for his
whole ship's cargo, and afterwards agreed to give a pro-
digious quantity of wedges of gold, of still greater value, for
the cat, with which, after taking leave of their Majesties,
and other great personages belonging to the court, he, with
all his ship's company, set sail, with a fair wind, for Eng-
land, and, after a happy voyage, arrived safely in the port
of London.
One morning Mr. Fitzwarren had just entered his count-


DICK WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT. 125
ing-house, and was going to seat himself at the desk, when
who should arrive but the captain and mate of the merchant
ship, the Unicorn, just arrived from the coast of Barbary,
and followed by several men, bringing with them a pro-
digious quantity of wedges of gold that had been paid by
the King of Barbary in exchange for the merchandise, and
also in exchange for Mrs. Puss. Mr. Fitzwarren, the instant
he heard the news, ordered Whittington to be called, and,
having desired him to be seated, said, "Mr. Whittington,
most heartily do I rejoice in the news these gentlemen have
brought you, for the captain has sold your cat to the King
of Barbary, and brought you in return more riches than
I possess in the whole world; and may you long enjoy
them!"
Mr. Fitzwarren then desired the men to open the immense
treasures they had brought, and added that Mr. Whitting-
ton had now nothing to do but to put it in some place
of safety.
Poor Dick could scarce contain himself for joy. He
begged his master to take what part of it he pleased, since
to his kindness he was indebted for the whole. "No, no,
this wealth is all your own, and justly so, answered Mr.
Fitzwarren; "and I have no doubt you will use it gene-
rously."
Whittington, however, was too kind-hearted to keep all
himself; and accordingly made a handsome present to the
captain, the mate, and every one of the ship's company,
and afterwards to his excellent friend the footman, and the
rest of Mr. Fitzwarren's servants, not even excepting crabbed
old Cicely.
After this, Mr. Fitzwarren advised him to send for trades
people, and get himself dressed as became a gentleman, and
made himthe offer of his house to live in till he could pro-
vide himself with a better.
When Mr. Whittington's face was washed, his hair curled,
9


126 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
his hat cocked, and he was dressed in a fashionable suit of
clothes, he appeared as handsome and genteel as any young
man who visited at Mr. Fitzwarren's; so that Miss Alice,
who had formerly thought of him with compassion, now
considered him as fit to be her lover; and the more so, no
doubt, because Mr. Whittington was constantly thinking
what he could do to oblige her, and making her the prettiest
presents imaginable.
Mr. Fitzwarren, perceiving their affection for each other,
proposed to unite them in marriage, to which, without
difficulty, they each consented; and accordingly a day for
the wedding was soon fixed, and they were attended to
church by the lord mayor, the court of aldermen, the
sheriffs, and a great number of the wealthiest merchants in
London; and the ceremony was succeeded by a most elegant
entertainment and splendid ball.
History tells us that the said Mr. Whittington and his
lady lived in great splendour, and were very happy; that
they had several children; that he was sheriff of Loudon in
the year 1340, and several times afterwards lord mayor; that
in the last year of his mayoralty he entertained King Henry
the Fifth on his return from the battle of Agincourt. And
sometime afterwards, going with an address from the city
on one of his Majesty's victories, he received the honour
of knighthood.
Sir Richard Whittington constantly fed great numbers
of the poor. He built a church and college to it, with a
yearly allowance to poor scholars, and near it erected an
hospital.
The effigy of Sir Richard Whittington was to be seen,
with his cat in his arms, carved in stone, over the archway
of the late prison of Newgate that went across Newgate
Street.


128 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
his doublet, and with a carter's whip he lays on them as
hard as he could drive. The people who saw him do it, told
his mother what he had done; which made the old woman
cry out, "O ! that young knave will be hanged." So in that
tone home she goes. Her son seeing her, came running and
foaming at the mouth to meet her, and told her, that he had
broke both the pots; which made the old woman to say,
"0 thou villain! what hast thou done?" "0 mother,"
quoth he, "you told me it was proclaimed, 'That all those
that would not work must be whipped'; and I have often
seen our pots work so hard, that they have foamed so much
at the mouth, that they befouled all the house where they
stood; but these two lazy knaves," said he, " told me, that
they did never work, nor never meant to work; and there-
fore," quoth he, "I have whipped them to death, to teach
the rest of their fellows to work, or never look me in the
face again."
Chapter II.
Another Jest of old Mother Winter and her Son Tom.
Upon a time Mother Winter sent her son Tom into the
market to buy her a penny-worth of soap, and gave him
twelvepence, and charged him to bring it home safe. Tom
told her it should be so; and to that end it should be safe
brought home, according to his mother's charge, he goes and
buys a penny-worth of soap, and hired two men with a hand-
barrow to carry the soap, and four men with brown bills to
guard it along to her, giving them the elevenpence for their
pains, which made his mother in great fury go to the mayor
of the town, who committed him to prison. Now, the prison
window joining close to the mayor's chamber window, Tom
and some other merry prisoners like himself, getting a cup
of good liquor in their heads, began to sing and roar and
domineer, insomuch that the mayor heard them that night,
and charged them they should leave oft'drinking and singing
of loose songs, and sing good psalms. Tom told him that


THE MAD PRANKS OF TOM TRAM. 129
he should hear that he would amend his life if he would
pardon his fault. The mayor said that for their misdemean-
ours, they should be that night in prison, and upon amend-
ment, being neighbours, he would release them in the
morning. They thanked the mayor, and Tom Tram pre-
vailed so far with a friend of his that he borrowed three
shillings; which three shillings he spent upon his fellow-
prisoners, which made the poor men be ruled by him, and
do what he enjoined them to do; so when the mayor was
gone to bed, the prison window as before observed, being
close to the chamber-window, they began to sing psalms so
loud that the mayor could take no rest, which made him
cause one of his servants forbid them leave off singing. Tom
Tram said that it was the mayor's good counsel that they
should sing psalms, and sing they would, as long as they
lived three. Which made the mayor bid the jailer turn
them out of prison, without paying their fees.
Chapter IIL
How Tom served his Hostess and a Tobacco Seller—being
another of his Jests.
It happened that Tom was sent on an errand forty miles
from his abode, over heaths and plains, where having
dispatched his business, he chanced to be lodged in a room
that opened into a yard, where his hostess kept many
turkeys, which Tom seeing he thrusts pins into two of their
heads and in the night they died. The woman in the morn-
ing wondered how the fowls should come to die. Tom per-
suaded her that there was a great sickness where he dwelt
amongst all manner of fowls, and wished his hostess to fling
them away, which she did. Tom watched where she flung
them, and when he took his leave of his hostess, it was at
such a time when she was busy setting bread into the oven,
so that he was sure she could not look after him. So he
goes and wraps the turkeys in his coat, and away he runs;
but finding his two turkeys heavy, he sees a man that sold


130 AMDSING PEOSE CHAP-BOOKS.
tobacco up and down the country at the foot of a hill,
when he alighted to lead his horse down the hill, at the
bottom of which he falls down, and lies crying as if he had
broken one of his legs, and makes to the man a most piteous
lamentation; that he was six or seven miles from any town,
there being no house near; and that he was like to perish'
for want of succour. The man asked where he dwelt. He
said with a knight, to whom Tom did live as a jester. The
man knowing the knight, and thinking Tom's leg had
really been broken, with much ado lifted him upon
the horse. When Tom was mounted, he prayed the man
to give him his master's turkeys. Tom made the horse
to gallop away, crying out, "I shall be killed! I shall
be killed! O my leg! What shall I do! O my leg!"
The man seeing him gone, stood in amaze, and knew
not what to think; nevertheless, he durst not leave his
turkeys behind him, for fear of displeasing the knight,
but carried them lugging along fretting and swearing in his
boots, till he came to the next town, where he hired a horse
to overtake Tom, but could not, until he came to the knight's
house, where Tom stood to attend his coming, looking out at
the window. When the man alighted, Tom then called to
him so loud, that most of the house heard him. "O," said
e, " now I see thou art an honest man, I had thought you had
set me upon your headstrong horse, on purpose to deceive
me of my turkeys. The man replied, " A pox take you and
your turkeys, for I never was played the knave with so in
my life; I hope you will pay for the hire of the horse,
which I was forced to borrow to follow you withal." "That
I will," said Tom, " with all my heart."
Chapter IV.
How Tom paid the Man for his Horse Hire.
Tom asked the man what way he intended to travel.
"Marry," said the man, "I must go back with the horse I
have hired." Quoth Tom, " What did you give for the hire


THE MAD PRANKS OK TOM TRAM. 131
of him?" Said the man, "I gave five shillings." "Well,"
said Tom, "I will set you to the next public-house, and theu
we will eat one of the turkeys, and I will bring you in good
silver the five shillings for the horse hire." The place
appointed being two miles off, Tom appoints three or four
of his companions to meet him, who did not fail, for they
were there before Tom and his friend, who came riding upon
the horses—Tom upon the hired horse, and the man upon
his own. Tom alighted, and called the hostler to set up his
horse, and to give him oats enough, and caused a turkey to
be roasted with all possible haste, which, according as he
commanded, was performed. But Tom whispered to his
consorts, and wished them to ply the man with drink; while
be, in the meantime, went to the host and told him they
came to be merry, and money was short with him and
desired he would lend him ten shillings upon his horse.
The host having so good a pawn, lent it bim, knowing it
would be spent in his house. So Tom went and gave the
man five shillings for tho hire of the horse, and spends the
other five shillings freely upon him. By that time the day
was pretty nigh spent, so that the man could get no further
that night, but Tom and his companions took their leaves
and returned home, and the man went his way to bed little
suspecting the trick Tom had put upon him. In the morn-
ing the man rising betimes, thinking to be gone, could have
but one horse unless he paid ten shillings, for Tom had left
word with his host, that paying the money he should have
both horses. The man seeing himself cozened again by Tom,
paid the ten shillings, and wished all such cheating knaves
were hanged, away he went fretting and foaming to see
see himself abused. ,
Chapter V.
How Tom served a Company of Gentlemen.
It happened that a company of gentlemen being disposed to
create mirth, rode some miles from home to be merry. One


132 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
of them would need have Tom to wait upou him, and Tom
was as willing as he to be in that company, but as they
were coming home, one of them cut the reins of Tom's
bridle, so that when Tom mounted on his horse the reins
broke, and the horse ran away with him in the midst of a
great heath whereon stood a large gallows against which the
horse stood, and rubbed his neck, so that the gentleman
hooped and hallooed, and said, "Farewell, Tom, farewell."
But Tom alighted from his horse, and made fast his reins,
and with his sword cut three or four chips from off the gallows;
and at the next tavern Tom met with them, where they
jeer'd him not a little; but Tom very earnestly entreated
them to forbear, yet the more he entreated them, the more
they played upon him. But to be even with them, in the
morning Tom calls the hostler, and sends him for nutmegs
and ginger, and gets a grater, and when he had grated them
he also grated the chips off the gallows, and mixed with the
spice only a little nutmeg and ginger, he laid towards one
end of the trencher for himself, and with a gallon of ale into
the gentleman's chamber he goes, begging of them not to
mock him any more with the gallows; and he would give
them that ale and spice; and so, says he, "Gentlemen, I
drink to you all." Now, as soon as he had drank, the
hostler called him, as he gave him charge before so to do.
Down stairs runs Tom as fast as he could. The gentlemen
made all possible speed to drink up the ale and spice before
he came up again, and that was what Tom desired. When
he came again, seeing all the ale and spice gone, he says,
"Gentlemen, will you know why my horse carried me to
the gallows?" "Yes," says one of them. *' Well," says
Tom, "it was to fetch you some spice to your ale, and if you
want, I have more for you "; and with that showed them the
chips out of his pocket, and away he runs, leaving the
gentlemen to look 'one upon another, studying how they
should bo revenged on him.


134 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
another for his man. The doctor, greedy of money, hastened
thither with his medicine bottles as fast as the horses could
carry him and his man. But the doctor no sooner came into
the house, but he saw there was no need of medicines. In
the meantime Tom told not only all he met with, that there
were such women met to be merry at such a place; and not
only they, but all the women of the house were poisoned,
but went likewise to their husbands, and told them the like,
so that all the people thereabouts repaired thither, which
made the women so ashamed that they knew not which way
to look, because all that saw them judged they were drunk;
so that instead of comforting them which they expected,
they fell a reviling them. The women also fell to scold-
ing among themselves, and would have fought, had not
their husbands parted them, by carrying them home.
Chapter VII.
How Tom served a Company of Gypsies.
It happened on a day, towards night, that there came a com-
pany of gypsies into a town, and had not veiy long been
there till Tom met them, and asked them, "What they made
there?" They said they came to town to tell the people
their fortunes, that thereby they might understand ensuing
dangers. "Aye," says Tom, "and where do you lie to-night?"
They told him they could not (tell. "Nay," said Tom, "if
you will be contented to lie in straw, I will bring you where
you may lie dry and warm." They thanked him, and told
him they' would tell him his fortune in the morning for
nothing. Tom thanked them, and therefore conveys them
into a little thatched house which had a ditch round about
it, very close to the wall thereof. That house Tom helped
them to fill with straw, and saw them take their lodging;
and then, it being dark, Tom bade them good-night, and as
soon as he was over the bridge, which was a plank, he drew it
after him; and in the dead time of the night Tom gets a long
pole, with a wasp of straw at the end of it, and sets the strawon


136 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
water, and took his mother's trevot, and sold it for a long
hawking pole, and a falconer's hag, which heing tied to his
side, and having drank up the poor man's hot water, he
came reeling home with an owl upon his fist, snying, "It U
gentlemanlike to he betwixt hawk and buzzard;" and he
told the acqua vitae man that he had sent the trevot, with
three legs, to the next town to fill you bottles again.
Chapter IX.
How he Hired himself to the Justice, and what Pranks
he played while with him.
The justice at this time being without a man, and finding
Tom to be a lively fellow, asked him if he would serve him.
"Yea," quoth Tom, " for I am a great many miles from the
country." As soon as they had agreed for wages, Tom was
immediately entertained. But he had not lived long there
before the justice and his family were obliged to go to
London, leaving nobody at home but Tom. Now in the
justice's absence, an officer brought a lusty young woman and
a little man with a complaint. So they knocked at the door,
and Tom let them in; then placing himself in his master's
chair, he asked the woman what she had to say, who told
him that the man whom she had brought before him
ill-used her. "Adzooks," quoth Tom, "is it possible that
such a little fellow as this could ill-use such a strapping
dame as you." "Alas ! sir," said she, "although ho is little he
is strong." "Well, little whipper-snapper," quoth Tom,
"what do you say to this." He replied, "Like your worship
it is false what she says. The truth is, I have been at sea,
and coming ashore, where I received my pay, I met with
this woman, and agreed with her for a pair of shoes for half
a crown, and when they were put on, I pulled out my purse
to pay her honestly what I had agreed for; but she seeing
that I had a considerable sum of money, contrary to our
bargain, would force me to give her ten shillings, and
because I would not, but struck her as she deserved, she has


THE MAD THANKS OF TOM TKAM. 137
broughfc me before your worship." "Have you got that
purse of money ?" quoth Tom. "Yes, sir," said the seaman.
"Give it into my hand," said Tom. He receives it, and
turning to the woman, said, " Here take it and get about
your business." She replied, " I thank your worship, you
are an honest good man, and have done me justice." The
little seaman the meanwhile wrung his hands and bitterly
cried out, " I am ruined, for it is every penny I had in the
world." "Well," quoth Tom. "haste after her, and take it
from her again." According to Tom's order he runs after
her, and when he came after her, he said, "I must, and will
have my purse again." Then she fell about his ears and
cuffed him. Nay, this did not satisfy her, but she dragged
him back again to Tom, who sat as justice, and told him
that the fellow followed her for the purse, which he in
justice gave her. "Well," said Tom, " and has he got it?"
"No," said she, "1 think not; before he should take it from
me, I'd tear out both his eyes." "Let me see it again," says
Tom. She gives it to him. "Is all the money in it?"
quoth be. "Yes, sir," said she, "every penny." "Why
then," said he, "here little whipper-snapper, take your
purse again; and as for you Mrs. Impudence, had you
kept your word as well as you did the money, I never
had been troubled with this complaint. Here, Mr. Con-
stable, give her a hundred lashes at the town's whipping
post." Which was accordingly done, and Tom was
applauded for his just proceedings.
Chapter X.
How Tom used a Singing Man of a Cathedral Church
in the West.
Once there was a cathedral singing man that had very much
angered Tom, and had made songs and jests upon him,
whereupon Tom got on his back an ox-hide, with the horns
set upon his head, and so lay in a hedge bottom, waiting
till the singing man came by, who he was sure must pass


138 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
that way. At last came the singing man. Up started Tom
out of the hedge bottom in his ox-hide, and followed him,
the singing man cried out, "The devil! the devil!" "No,"
quoth Tom, "I am the ghost of goodman Johnson, living
hard by the Church stile, unto whose house ye came and
sung catches, and owes me five pounds for ale, therefore
appoint me a day when ye will bring me my money hither,
or else I will haunt thee still. The singing man promised
that day se'enight, and accordingly he did; and Tom made
himself brave clothes with the money, and sweethearts came
about him as bees do about a honey pot. But Tom wore a
rope in his pocket, and being asked if he would marry, he
would pull it out, and laugh, saying, " I have broken my
shins already, and will be wiser hereafter; for I am an old
colt, and now may have as much wit as a horse."
Chapter XL
Of Tom Tram's wooing Cicily Summers, the neat Wench
of the West.
Cicily Summers, whose nose was then as fair as the mid-
night sun, which shined as bright as Baconthine, was be-
loved of young Tom Tram; and a sad story to tell, he grew
not worth the bread he ate, through pining away for her
love. Tom was loath to speak but still whistled. At
last, when Cicily made no answer, he burst out in thus :—
"O Cicily Summers, if I Tom Tram, son of Mother Winter,
and thou Cicily Summers be joined together what a quarter
shall we keep, as big as three half years; besides Cicily
Summers when thou scoldest, then Winter shall presently
cool thy temper; and when we walk on the street they'll say
yonder goes Summer and Winter; and our children, we
shall call a generation of almanacks. So they went
to the parson and were married; but they fell out so
extremely that they scolded all the summer season; and
Tom drank good ale, and told old tales all the winter time,
and so they could never but thrive all the year through.


THE MAD PRANKS OF TOM TBAM. 139
Tom lived by good ale, and his wife by eating oat-meal;
and when Tom went to be drunk in the morning, she put
oatmeal in the ale, and made caudle with mustard instead of
eggs, which bit Tom so by the nose, that it would run
water; but the next day he would be drunk again.
TOM TRAM'S
MERRY TALES.
Tale I.
Of a Scholar and a Tapster on a Winter Night.
The tapster said, "Sir, will you go to bed." "No," quoth
the scholar, "There are thieves abroad, and would not willing-
ly be caught napping." So the tapster left him, and being
gone, in came a spirit into the chamber, with his head under
his arm so that he durst not stir, but cried out, "Help!
help! fire 1 thieves I thieves!" "Oh," quoth he, "the devil
was here and spoke to me with his head under his arm; but
now I will go to bed, and if he comes again I will send him
to the tapster, to help him to make false reckonings. It
being a cold night," quoth he, "I will first put fire to toe, that
is, I will warm my toes by the fire, then I'll go to bed." And
so he did, and a great reckoning put the scholar out of his
jest saying, " That was in earnest made too large a reckon-
ing," he being but poor Sir John, of Oxford.
Tale II.
Down in the west country a certain conceited fellow had a
great nose; so a country man by him with a sack of corn,
jostled him, saying, " Your nose stands in my way," where-
upon the other fellow with the great nose, took his nose in
his hand, and held it to the other side, saying, "A pox on
thee, go and be hanged."


A YORK DIALOGUE BETWEEN NED AND HARRY. 141
told her the three pigs were blown home, and the cock was
made a bachelor of arts in one of the colleges. "I thought so,"
said the woman, "for sure bachelors of arts are very cox-
combs."
A
YORK DIALOGUE
BETWEEN
NED AND HARRY:
OR
Ned giving Harry an Account of his Courtship
and Marriage State.
Ned.—Honest Harry, 1 am glad to see you. You're wel-
come to York. You're a great stranger. When came you
to town?
Harry.—I came to your town last night, Ned, and am
glad to see you. I inquired after you of my landlord, and
he told me you was well, and had been married two or three
years. I wish you much happiness; but how d'ye like
matrimony?
Ned.—In good faith, Hairy, scrubbing his shoulders, but
so, so; however, I will not discourage you.
Harry.—But don't you remember, Ned, that you and I
made an agreement that which of us two was married first,
should tell one another of the way of courtship, and how he
liked it and a married state.
Ned.—Tis true we did so, Harry, but now I have not
time to tell you, for it will take me more than two or three
hours to give you a full account of both parts.
10


142 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Harry—What are you in haste then, Ned "Tis a great
while since I have seen you, and shan't we have one mug
together?
Ned—Faith, Harry, I'm loath to deny you; but if I go
with you, I must send home to my wife, and let her know
where I am.
Harry.—So you may Ned, and tell her you are with an
old friend that would be glad to see her.
Ned—Not a word of that, Harry, for if I go with you and
stay any time, we shall have her company without sending
for her.
Harry—Say you so. Come then, let us go to Tom
Swan's. Well, Ned, I am glad to see thee—ring the bell.
Jenny, bring us a pint of your best ale. Come, Ned, sit
down. And how long was it before you got your wife into
the mind to marry; for if I speak to any of the female sex,
they are so very coy, I can't tell what to make of them
Ned.—That's very true. They are so, Harry, for when I
spoke to my wife first, she was so very coy and huffish, and
told me she did not know what I meant. She was not for
marrying. She lived very well as she was, and if she should
marry, she must then be confined to the humours of a hus-
band.
Harry.—Well, but how then, Ned, tell me all.
Ned—Faith I have not time now, Harry, for I must go
home.
Harry–Come, my service t'ye, Ned, I will have you be
as good as your promise.
Ned—Then if I must, I will stay a little longer and tell
you. I told her I had as good a trade as any of my neigh-
bours. Upon these words she was called away.
Harry.—How then, Ned
Ned.—Faith I went home, but could not get her out of my
mind. The next day I went again to see her, and took her
by the hand, but she pulled it away with scorn, saying,


A YORK DIALOGUE BETWEEN NED AND IIA Rit Y. 143
"Pray don't banter me, for I know you men love to banter
us silly women." Upon my faith, madam, said I, I am in
good earnest, for a man of my trade must have both journey-
men and prentices, therefore I cannot well be without a
wife, and you are the only person I always thought would
make mo happy. Then I took her by the hand again, and
with much ado got a kiss off her. "Pray be quiet," said she,
"Goodness! what do you mean? you are so troublesome!"
and looked very angry, and so left me.
Harry.—Very well, Ned, go on, this is vastly pleasant
.
Ned.—That very kiss made me think of her, and love
her more than ever I did, for after that kiss I was always
wishing myself in her company, and was never at rest. The
Sunday after, I saw her in the minster at prayers, and
thought everything handsome and pretty about her—her
face, her eyes, her mouth, her breast, her shape. J watched
her coming out of the choir, and walked with her in the
minster, and asked her if she would please to take a walk
into the Groves, but she told me she was engaged. Believe
me, Harry; I was so daft with that answer that my heart
was fit to break with fear that she should love another better
than myself. However, I went home with her. She told
me she was engaged, and I need not trouble myself any
further. Madam, said I, the first that ever I saw you, I was
struck with the thought that you was the woman that was
to make me a happy wife. "You men," said she, "say so to
all women you meet with." "Truly, madam," said I, " what
I say is really true, from the bottom of my heart, and I hope
you will find it so." "You men always promise fair," said
she, "before you are married, but when the job is over you
seldom or never perform your promise." "Pray, try me,
madam," said I, "for upon my word, you will find me
always as good as I have said, by this kiss." "Fye," said
she, "I swear I will never come into your company any more, if
you will not let me stand quietly by you." Then I asked


144 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
her again the favour to take a walk, for it was a fine even-
ing, and would do her a great deal of good. She told me at
last, she was to meet two or three of her acquaintances at
seven o'clock in the Groves, just to take a turn or two and
so come home again, so bid me good night.
Harry.—Well, Ned, I hope you went to the Groves to
meet her, did you not?
Ned.—Yes, 3rou may be assured I did, and within a quarter
of an hour after I was there, my mistress came, but her
friends were not with her, as good luck would have it.
Harry.—Were not you glad of that, Ned, though I dare
swear, she knew of nobody to meet her at that time.
Ned.—Yes, faith, I was very glad of it; and when we
had taken a turn or two, I asked her if she would go to
the cheese-cake house, and with much ado I got her to con-
sent to go.
Harry.—Well, Ned, what discourse had you there?
Ned.—Why, faith, we were very merry. I called for some
cheese-cakes, and a bottle of cider, and at last began to
ask her about marrying me. She told me she heard I had a
good trade, and did mind it now very well, but how I would
mind it, if she should consent to marry me, was her fear. I
told her she need never fear that, for marrying of her
would be the only means to make me mind my business, if
possible, more than I have done. I do assure you, Harry,
that the servants which we call chamber-maids, stand as
much upon their honour, as some of them will call it, in
courting, as their mistress, nay, and more.
Harry.—Why, Ned, I have observed that all along you
have called her madam whenever you named her, but I hope
it is not a custom here at York, to call your chamber-maids
madam at every word.
Ned.—Yes, faith we do, and they themselves call one
another so, for if there be five or six of them together at the
parting with one another, you shall hear them take leave


A YORK DIALOGUE BETWEEN NED AND HARRY. 145
of one another with, "Madam, good-night to you," says
one; "Madam, your servant," says another; "Pray my
service to you know who" :Tis very true, Harry.
Harry.—How could you ever expect Ned, that such an
one would make you a good wife that minded nothing but
her pride.
Ned.—Well, Harry, but you, are mistaken, for some of
them do make very good wives and are very good house-
wives too.
Harry—How long were you a-courting her, before she
gave consent to marry you?
Ned.—Why, about a year or more, and all that while I
very little did mind myself for minding of her, for I was
fain to watch her as a cat watcheth a mouse, for fear of a
rival. At last I told her I hoped now she would consent to
marry me, if not, to tell me so, for it was a great loss to me
to lose my time so day after day. Upon these words she
told me she thought 1 was in earnest, but she did not much
like the house I lived in. I told her it was a very pretty
house, and I should be glad to see her in it. Upon this she
smiled and gave me her consent.
Harry.—Was you asked in the church, Ned, or had you a
license?
Ned.—I went on purpose to ask her that question, and
she told me she was a gentlewoman born, and did not care to
be asked in the church, for, she said, there was nobody asked
in the church but cook-maids and kitchen-maids, so it cost me
about twenty shillings for a license. Well, married we were,
and very merry were we that day.
-Harry.—But now, Ned, in the second place, come tell me
how you and your wife agree together, for I think it is said
your York wives will be masters of their husbands in less
than a year's time if possible they can. Well then, Ned, I
do suppose it is with you as with most of your neighbours,
your wife is the master?


146 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Ned.—Faith, Harry, not much matter (scratching his head),
but I doubt she'll come and find us together, and then there
will be
Harry.—What then, Ned, let her come, I have a mug or
two at her service and shall be glad to see her.
Ned.—So shall not I, Harry.
Harry.—Why, Ned, how can she be angry with you when
she sees you with an old acquaintance you have not seen for
two or three years?
Ned.—That's nothing.
Harry.—What, Ned, do not you agree then really, and has
been married but three years. Suppose she should come,
what would or could she say to you?
Ned.—Dear Harry, do not desire me to tell you, for if I
would, and if you should happen to tell it again, and it
should come to her ears that it was I told you, I might as
well run my country as stay at home.
Harry.—Ned, my service to you, upon my honour, as the
gentleman says, I will never say anything of it to anybody.
Ned.—Well then, Harry, if I be out at any time, as now
with you, when I go home, as soon as I get within doors'
she'll begin with a pretty tone she has learned off her neigh-
bours.
"Oh! brave sir! You are a fine husband, you mind your
business and shop, as you promised me before we were
married: do you not, you drunken dog? you rogue, you
rascal, where have you been these six hours (though it were
but three), sirrah, give me account where you have been."
Harry.—Well, Ned, do you give her an account where you
were, or what answer do you make her?
Ned.—All that I say to her is, "Pray, my dear, be not in
such a passion, for I was with, an old friend that I have
not seen two or three years." "A pox on your old friend,"
says she, "and you too must go and fill your belly with good
meat and drink, and I and my poor children starve at home,


A YORK DIALOGUE BETWEEN NED AND HARRY. 147
with only a little bread and cheese. A curse on the first
day I saw you.
Harry.—Why, Ned, I hope your circumstances are not so
low in the world, but that you can afford your wife pretty
well to keep house with.
Ned.—Why, Harry, there's hardly a day but we have a
joint of meat, either boiled or roasted, and I am sure she
never wants for good bread, cheese, eggs, and butter.
Harry.—Pray, Ned, what does she do towards maintaining
your house, does she endeavour any ways to get a penny?
What portion had you with her?
Ned.—Harry, never marry a chamber-maid, for they bring
nothing with them but a few old clothes of their mistresses,
and for house-keeping, few of them know anything of it; for
they can hardly make a pudding or a pie, neither can they
spin, nor knit, nor wash, except it be a few laces to make
themselves fine withal.
Harry.—What would she be at?
Ned.—Why always a-gossiping, there is such a company
of them in our street that there's never a day but some or
other of them meet together.
Harry.—Where do they meet?
Ned.—Where the best country ale is.
Harry.—What, do they make a sitting of it when they
meet?
Ned.—A sitting of it; yes, yes, they will sit from three till
ten at night, and drink like fishes, and talk against their
husbands.
Harry.—What do you say when she comes home? Do
you not ask her where she has been that she stayed so late?
Ned.—I dare not say one word to her, but am glad she will
let me go to bed and sleep quietly.
Harry.—What becomes of your children those days; who
looks after them all this while?
Ned.—Nobody but a silly maid she hired who can do


148 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
nothing; I am fain as well as I can, to boil them their milk
for their suppers and help to get them to bed.
Harry.—Does not she ask when she comes home how her
children do, and who gave them their suppers and got them
to bed? • •
Ned.—Never, never, Harry, but perhaps the next morning
will get them up herself, and put them on, poor things, the
same linen they had on three days before.
Barry.—How do you allow your wife? do you allow her
so much a week? how gets she the money to spare for
gossiping?
Ned.—Why, she watches me; and if I sell anything in the
shop, then she comes to me and tells me, such a child wants
this, and such a one that, so I am fain to give her money for
quietness' sake.
Harry.—Why, Ned, she makes a mere fool of you.
Ned.—'Tis not my case alone, Harry, for most of my
neighbours have not much better wives, for the better sort
they say, love carding and gossiping and cold tea.
Harry.—Well, Ned, I think you have almost satisfied me,
and I promise you for your sake I will never marry any one
of that sort called chamber-maids.
Ned.—If ever you marry, Harry, many one that's bred
up in business, I mean one that knows how to look after her
house? and as you endeavour to get a penny in your way
she will endeavour to get another in hers, such a one will
make both you and herself happy.
Harry.—Pray then, Ned, what can your wife or any other
man's wife say against her husband if he takes all the pains,
as you say you do, to maintain her and her children hand-
somely?
Ned.—I know not but I hear this is their way. If any
new married wife come among them; first she must pay for
her admittance, then presently after, some of them will begin,
'• Neighbour, your good health "; another, "Neighbour I wish


A T011K DIALOGUE BETWEEN NKD AND HAIIRY. 149
I.
you health and happiness"; another, " Pray neighbour, what
kind of a humoured man is j'our husband ?" another, " Is he
kind to you?" another, "Does he allow you as he should do?
If he does not, neighbour, let us know, and we will tell you
how to manage him I warrant you."
Harry.—Well, Ned, I pity thee, with all my heart, and
all them that have such wives; but now you must make the
best of it, and live as quietly as you can.
Ned.—Harry, I must so. Well, come, let's know what's to
pay. I have stayed too long, so I am sure of a lecture when
I go home.
Harry.—Come, Ned, I treat you this time because I
invited you, it may be you will find your wife in a better
humour than you think of.
Ned.—I wish I may, Hany. I am sure of it that it shall
make me stay at home and mind my business a great deal
better than I have done of late. •
Harry.—How many children have you, Ned?
Ned.—Two boys, and I believe another coming.
Harry.—Well, Ned, she cannot complain of the smallness
of her family.
Ned.—Well, Harry, I must take my leave of you.and I thank
you for me, and if you do not go out of town to-morrow, I hope
I shall see you again; there is a great deal more in a married
state than I have told you of, that is all charges to the hus-
band, the sickening-day, the week-day, the christening-day,
three-week-day, the churching-day ; all these days they have
their meetings and discourses, which would take half a day
to tell the mall; and if the husband be not there to wait upon
them on those days, some of them will say, "Neighbour,
where is your husband? he should be here to wait on us."
"If my husband, should serve me so," says another, "when
I lie in, odds had." A third will say, "Indeed, neighbour,
you give your husband too much liberty, more than I would
do." So, Harry, when I go home she falls a-telling me what


150
AMUSING PROSE CHAP-HOOKS.
such a one and such a one, and all the company said of me,
for my not being there to wait upon them.
Harry.—Well, Ned, thou has satisfied me very well, and
for thy sake will never marry a chamber-maid. Come, ring
the bell, we'll see what there's to pay, and should be glad of
your company longer, if it stand to your conveniency.
Ned.—Harry, I thank you, but home I must go now.
Harry.—Jenny, what's to pay ?" One shilling sir."—Ned,
good-night to you, my service to your spouse; and if I stay
to-morrow, I'll come and see you and her.
Ned.—Harry, good night to you, I thank you for ine, and
I shall be glad to see you to-morrow; but whether my wife
will or no I cannot tell, for I doubt I will find her but so-and-
so in her humour.
Harry.—Good-night to you, Ned, thank you for your good
company; it has been very pleasant, and I hope you will
find all things easy and quiet at home.
DANIEL O'ROURKE'S
WONDERFUL
VOYAGE TO THE MOON.
People may have heard of the renowned adventures of
Daniel O'Rourke, but how few are there who know that
the cause of all his perils, above and below, was neither
more nor less than his having slept under the walls of the
Phooka's tower.


DANIEL O'ROURKE'S VOYAGE TO THE MOON. 151
"I am often axed to tell it, sir," said he, "so that this is
not the first time. The master's son, you see, had come
from beyond foreign parts in France and Spain, as youn
gentlemen used to go, before Buonaparte or any such w
heard of; and, sure enough, there was a dinner given to a
the people on the ground, gentle and simple, high and lov
rich and poor. The ould gentlemen were the gentlemr
after all, saving your honour's presence. They'd swear a
a body a little, to be sure, and maybe give one a cut of a
whip now and then, but we were no losers by it in the
end ;—and they were so easy and civil, and kept such
rattling houses, and thousands of welcomes; and there was
no grinding for rent, and few agents; and there was hardly
a tenant on the estate that did not taste of his landlord's
bounty often and often in the year;—but now it's another
thing; no matter for that, sir, for I'd better be telling you
my story.
"Well, we had everything of the best, and plenty of it;
and we ate, and we drank, and we danced, and the young
master, by the same token, danced with Peggy Barry from
Bothereen—a lovely young couple they were, though they
are both long enough now. To make a long story short, I
got, as a body may say, the same thing as tipsy almost, for
I can't remember ever at all, no ways, how 1 left the place;
only I did leave it, that's certain. Well, I thought, for all
that, in myself, I'd just step to Molly Cronohan's, the fairy
woman, to speak a word about the bracket heifer that was
bewitched; and so as I was crossing the stepping stones at
the ford of Ballyashenogh, and was looking up at the stars,
and blessing myself—for why? it was Lady-day—I missed
my foot, and souse I fell into the water. 'Death alive!'
thought I, 'I'll be drowned now!' However, I began
swimming, swimming, swimming away for the dear life,
till at last I got ashore, somehow or other, but never the
one of me can tell how, upon a dissolute island.


152 AMUSING I'ROSE CHAP-UOOKS.
"I wandered and wandered about there, without know-
ing where I wandered, until at last I got into a big bog.
The moon was shining as bright as day, or your fair lady's
/es, sir (with your pardon for mentioning her), and I
toked east and west, and north and south, and every way,
.nd nothing did I see but bog, bog, bog. I could never find
•t how I got into it, and my heart grew cold with fear, for
jre and certain I was that it would be my barrin place.
So I sat down upon a stone which, as good luck would have
it, was close by me, and I began to scratch my head and sing
the TJllagon, when all of a sudden the moon grew black,
and I looked up, and saw something for all the world as if
it was moving down between me and it, and I could not
tell what it was. Down it came with a pounce, and looked
at me full in the face. And what was it but an eagle—as
fine a one as ever flew from the kingdom of Kerry. So
he looked at me in the face, and says he to me, 'Daniel
O'llourke,' says he,' how do you do?' 'Very well, I thank
you, sir,' says I; 'I hope you're well,' wondering out of my
senses all the time how an eagle came to speak like a Chris-
tian. 'What brings you here, Dan?' says he. 'Nothing
at all, sir,' says I; 'only I wish I was safe home again.'
'Is.it out of the island you want to go, Dan?' says he.
'Tis, sir,' says I; so I up and told him how I had taken a
drop too much, and fell into the water; how I swam to the
island; and how I got into the bog and did not know my
way out of it. 'Dan,' says he, after a minute's thought,
'though it is very improper for you to get drunk on Lady-
day, yet, as you are a decent sober man, who tends mass
well, and never flings stones at me or mine, nor cries out
after us in the fields—my life for yours,' says he; 'so get
up on my back, and grip me well for fear you'd fall off, and
I'll fly you out of the bog.' 'I am afraid,' says I,' your
honour's making game of me; for who ever heard of riding
a-horseback on an eagle before?' 'Ton the honour of a


DANIEL O'KOURKK's VOYAGE TO THE MOON. 153
gentleman,' says he, putting his right foot on his breast, 'I
am quite in earnest; and so, now, either take my offer or
starve in the bog; besides, I see that your weight is sinking
the stone.'
"It was true enough as he said, for I found the stone
every minute going from under me. I had no choice; so
thinks I to myself, faint heart never won fair lady, and this
is fair persuadance. 'I thank your honour,' says I,'for the
load of your civility, and I'll take your kind offer.' I there-
fore mounted upon the back of the eagle, and held him tight
enough by the throat, and up he flew in the air like a lark.
Little I knew the trick he was going to serve me. Up—up
—up—God knows how far up he flew. 'Why, then,' said I
to him, thinking he did not know the right road home, very
civilly—because why? I was in his power entirely—'sir,'
says I, 'please your honour's glory, and with humble sub-
mission to your better judgment, if you'd fly dowu a bit,
you're now just over my cabin, and I could be put down
there, and many thanks to your worship.'
"'Arrah, Dan,' said he, 'do you think me a fool? Look
down in the next field, and don't you see two men and a
gun? By my word it would be no joke to be shot this
way, to oblige a drunken blackguard that I picked up off a
could stone in a bog.' 'Bother you,' said I to myself, but I
did not speak out, for where was the use? Well, sir, up he
kept flying, flj'ing, and I asking him every minute to fly
down, and all to no use. 'Where in the world are you
going, sir?' says I to him. 'Hold your tongue, Dan,' says
he; 'mind your own business, and don't be interfering with
the business of other people.' 'Faith, this is my business,
I think,' says I. 'Be quiet, Dan,' says he; so I said no
more.
"At last, where should we come to but to the moon itself.
Now, you can't see it from this; but there is, or there was
in my time, a reaping-hook sticking out of the side of the


154 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
moon, this way (drawing the figure on the ground with the
end of his stick).
"' Dan,' said the eagle, ' I'm tired with this long fly; I
had no notion 'twas so far.' 'And, my lord, sir,' said I,
1 who in the world axed you to fly so far—was it I? Did
not I beg, and pray, and beseech you to stop half an hour
ago?' 'There's no use talking, Dan,'said he; Tin tired
bad enough, so you must get off, and sit down on the moon
until I rest myself.' 'Is it sit down on the moon?' said I.
'Is it upon that little round thing, then? Why, then, sure
I'd fall off in a minute, and be kilt and split, and smashed
all to bits; you are a vile deceiver, so you are.' 'Not at
all, Dan,' said he; 'you can catch fast hold of the reaping-
hook that's sticking out of the side of the moon, and 'twill
keep you up.' 'I won't, then,' said I. 'Maybe not,'said
he, quite quiet. 'If you don't, my man, I shall just give
you a shake, and one slap of my wing, and send you down
to the ground, where every bone of your body will be
smashed as small as a drop of dew on a cabbage-leaf in the
morning.' 'Why, then, I'm in a fine way/ said I to myself,
'ever to have come alone with the likes of you ;' and so,
giving him a hearty curse in Irish, for fear he'd know what
I said, I got off his back with a heavy heart, took hold of
the reaping-hook, and sat down upon the moon; and a
mighty cold seat it was, I can tell you that.
"When he had me there fairly landed, he turned about
on me, and said, 'Good morning to you, Daniel O'Rourke,'
said he; T think I've nicked you fairly now. You robbed
my nest last year ('twas true enough for him, but how he
found it out is hard to say), and in return you are freely
welcome to cool your heels dangling upon the moon like a
cockthrow.'
"' Is that all, and is this the way you leave me, you brute,
you?' says I. 'You ugly unnatural baste, and is this the
way you 6erve me at last? Bad luck to yourself, with.


HANIEI, O ROURKKS VOYAGE TO TUE MOON. 155
your hooked nose, and to all your breed, you blackguard.'
'Twas all to no manner of use; he spread out hi3 great big
wings, burst out a-laughing, and flow away like lightning.
I bawled after him to stop, but I might have called and
bawled for ever without his minding me. Away he went,
and I never saw him from that day to this. Sorrow fly
away with him! You may be sure I was in a disconsolate
condition, and kept roaring out for the bare grief, when all
at once a door opened right in the middle of the moon,
creaking on its hinges as if it had not been opened for a
month before. I suppose they never thought of greasing
'em; and out there walks, who do you think, but the man
in the moon himself. I knew him by his busk.
"'Good morrow to you, Daniel O'Rourke,' said he. 'How
do you do?' 'Very well, thank your honour,' said I. 'I
hope your honour's well.' 'What brought you here, Dan?'
said he. So I told him how I was a little overtaken in
liquor at the master's, and how I was cast on a dissolute
island, and how I lost my way in the bog, and how the
thief of an eagle promised to fly me out of it, and how,
instead of that, he had fled me up to the moon.
"'Dan,' said the man in the moon, taking a pinch of
snuff when I was done, 'you must not stay here.' 'Indeed,
sir,' says I, ''tis much against my will I'm here at all; but
how am I to go back?' 'That's your business,' said he,
'Dan; mine is to tell you that here you must not stay, so
be off in less than no time.' 'I'm doing no harm,' says I,
'only holding on hard by the reaping-hook lest I fall off.'
'That's what you must not do, Dan,' says he. 'Pray, sir,'
says I,' may I ask how many you are in family, that you
would not give a poor traveller lodgings? I'm sure 'tis not
so often you're troubled with strangers coming to see you,
for 'tis a long way.' 'I'm by myself, Dan,' says he; 'but
you'd better let go the reaping-hook.' 'Faith, and with
your leave,' says I, ' I'll not let go the grip; and the more


156 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
you bids nie, the more I won't let go, so I will.' 'You had
better, Dan,' says he again. 'Why, then, my little fellow,'
says I, taking, the whole weight of him with my eye from
head to foot,' there are two words to that bargain; and I'll
not budge, but you may if you like.' 'We'll see how that
is to be,' says he; and back he went, giving the door such
a great bang after him (for it was plain he was huffed) that
I thought the moon and all would fall down with it.
"Well, I was preparing myself to try strength with him,
when back again he comes with the kitchen cleaver in his
hand, and, without saying a word, he gives two bangs to
the handle of the reaping-hook that was keeping me up,
and whap! it came in two. 'Good morning to you, Dan,'
says the spiteful little old blackguard, when he saw mo
cleanly falling down with a bit of the handle in my haml,
'I thank you for your visit, and fair weather after you,
Daniel.' I had no time to make any answer to him, for I
was tumbling over and over, and rolling and rolling at the
rate of a fox-hunt. 'God help me,' says I,'but this is a
pretty pickle for a decent man to be seen in at this time of
night; I am now sold fairly.' The word was not out of my
mouth when whiz! what should fly by close to my ear but
a flock of wild geese, all the way from my own bog of
Ballyashenogb, else how should they know me? The ould
gander, who was their general, turning about his head, cried
out to me,' Is that you, Dan?' 'The same,' said I, not a
bit daunted now at what he said, for I was by this time
used to all kinds of bedevilment, and, besides, I knew him
of ould. 'Good morrow to you,' says he,' Daniel O'Rourke.
How are you in health this morning?' 'Very well, sir,'
aays I; ' I thank you kindly,' drawing my breath, for I was
mightily in want of some. 'I hope your honour's the same.'
'I think 'tis falling you are, Daniel,' says he. 'You may
say that, sir,' says I. 'And where are you going all the
way so fast?' said the gander. So I told him how I had


DANIEL o'rOUHKe's VOYAGE TO THE MOON. 157
taken the drop, and how I came on the island, and how I
lost my way in the bog, and how the thief of an eagle flew
me up to the moon, and how the man in the moon turned
me out. 'Dan,' said he,' I'll save you; put your hand out
and catch me by the leg, and I'll fly you home.' 'Sweet is
your hand in a pitcher of honey, my jewel,' says I, though
all the time I thought in myself that I don't much trust
you; but there was no help, so I caught the gander by the
leg, and away I and the other geese flew after him as fast as
hops.
"We flew, and we flew, and we flew, until we came right
over the wide ocean. I knew it well, for I saw Cape Clear
to my right hand, sticking up out of the water. 'Ah ! my
lord,' said I to the goose—for I thought it best to keep a
civil tongue in my head any way—' fly to land, if you
please.' 'It is impossible, you see, Dan,' said he, ' for a while,
because, you see, we are going to Arabia.' 'To Arabia!'
said I; 'that's surely some place in foreign parts, far away.
Oh! Mr. Goose, why, then, to be sure, I'm a man to be
pitied among you.' 'Whist, whist, you fool,' said he; 'hold
your tongue. I tell you Arabia is a very decent sort of
place, as like West Carbery as one egg is like another, only
there is a little more sand there.'
Just as we were talking a ship hove in sight, scudding so
beautiful before the wind. 'Ah! then, sir,' said I, 'will
you drop me on the ship, if you please?' 'We are not fair
over it,' said he. 'We are,' said I. 'We are not,' said he;
'if I dropped you now, you would go splash into the sea.'
'I would not,' says I; 'I know better than that, for it is
just clean under us, so let mo drop now at once.'
"' If you must, you must,' said he. 'There, take your
own way ;' and he opened his claw, and faith he was right,
—sure enough, I came down plump into the very bottom of
the salt sea! Down to the very bottom I went, and I gave
myself up then for ever, when a whale walked up to me,
11


MOTIIEIt UUNCIl'3 closet newly broke open. 159
MOTHER BUNCH'S CLOSET
NEWLY BROKE OPEN;
CONTAINING
RARE SECRETS OF NATURE AND ART,
TRIED AND EXPERIENCED
BY LEARNED PHILOSOPHERS,
And recommended to all ingenious young men and maids,
teaching them, in a natural way, how to get good wives
and husbands.
Approved by several that have made trial of them; it being
the product of forty-nine years' study.
By our loving Friend Poor Tom, for the King, a lover of
Mirth, but a hater of Treason.
IN TWO PARTS.
Part I.
Reading over many ancient Histories, it was my chance to
meet with this story of an old woman who lived in the west,
who took delight in studying her fortune. When she found
herself full twenty years old, she thought her luck worse
than some who were married at fifteen or sixteen, which
much troubled her mind; but to prevent all doubts she re-
solved to try a story she had often heard her mother talk of,
and, finding it true, she resolved to teach other maidens.
On a time, this old woman having newly buried her
husband, was taking a walk in the fields, for the benefit of
the air, sometimes thinking of the loss of her husbands, for
she had had three, yet had a great desire for the fourth. So
it happened, as she was walking alone, she espied a young


160 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
maiden by the meadow-side. "Good morrow, maid," said
the old woman, "how do you do? are not you well?"
"Yes, mother, I am very well, but somewhat troubled in
mind." "What is it troubles you so much? If I can, I will
willingly relieve you, therefore bo not ashamed to tell the
truth. Is it anything of great concern?" "Indeed, mother,
seeing you urge me so much, I will tell you the truth. We
are three sisters, the youngest was married about a year ago,
the middlemost last week, and I am the eldest, and no man
heeds me." "Well, daughter, if this be all, I believe I can
assist thee, for when I was young I was in the same condi-
tion, and with reading some histories, found out the art to
know him that should be my husband, which, if you will
keep my counsel, I am ready to teach thee." "I will, truly,
and if you will do so much for me, I shall think myself
much obliged to you; and, if my fortune proves right, I will
make you amends."
"Why, then, I will tell you, in the first place, you must
observe St. Agnes' day, which is the 21st of January, and on
that day let no man speak to thee, and at night, when
thou liest down lay thy right hand under thy head, and say
these words,' Now the God of hope let me dream of my love';
then go to sleep as soon as possible, and you shall be sure to
dream of him who will be your husband, and see him stand
before you, and may take notice of him and his complexion;
and if he offer to salute thee honourably, do not deny him,
but show him as much favour as thou canst; but if he offers
to be uncivil, be sure to send him away. And now, daughter,
the counsel I have given you, be sure to tell nobody. So,
fare you well, till I see you again."
"I give you thanks for your advice; but one thing more
I have to say, What is your name? and where do you live?"
"1 will tell you, daughter; my name is Mother Bunch, and I
live at a place called Bonadventure, where, if you come, I
will make you welcome."


MOTHER BUNCH'S CLOSET NEWLY BROKE OPEN. 161
Now Mother Bunch having departed from the maid, she
met another pretty girl. "Good morrow, Mother Bunch."
"Good morrow, pretty maid, whither are you going this
morning? Me thinks you are very fine to-day." "Fine!
Mother Bunch, you do not think so." "Nay, I cannot dis-
commend you; for such a brisk maid as you should go hand-
some, or you will never get a sweetheart, though you think
the time long." "No, no, mother, I am too young." "How
old are you?" "I am eighteen." "Eighteen! then I know
thou thinkest thou hast stayed long enough, and wouldest
as willingly have a husband as another." "Aye, Mother
Bunch, but good husbands are hard to find, especially for
me, who have no skill in choosing, or else it may be I would
be glad of a good husband." "Be sure to take my advice:
be wise in choosing, that is to say, take no one that has got
a red head, for be sure he loveth a smock so well that he
will scarce let his wife have a good one to her back; nor of
yellow hair, as he is inclinable to be jealous; nor a black
man, for he is dogged." "Aye, but mother, if I must not
have yellow, black, nor red, what colour must I take?"
"Why, daughter, I tell you, if he is jealous, you will be
annoyed by his speeches, for how can a young woman for-
bear when she is always provoked? And be sure, if he is
jealous of thee thou mayest well be so of him; for evil people
and thieves think ill of each other. But hold a little, one
thing more I have to say to you, and that is, to take notice
of thy sweethearts when they come a-wooing to thee, I mean
of their civil behaviour; for if they swear, vow, and make
great protestations, then have a care of thyself, for many
words breed dissimulation; therefore have a care of such:
but if a man come to thee that is sober and civil behaved,
there are hopes of his proving a good man." "Now, mother,
I will take my leave of you, giving you many thanks for
your good advice; and so, farewell, till I 6ee you again, and
I intend to take this counsel."


162 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Another time Mother Bunch was in a little meadow,
not far from her house, on the 30th of April, before sun-
rising. A handsome maid, seeing her alone, came to her, and
said, " Mother Bunch, good morrow, how do you do? Pray,
what makes you abroad so early in the morning? You
seem to be in a deep study." "Daughter, you say very
true; I am studying who shall be my next husband, and if
thou wilt but please to stay a little while, thou shalt see a
pretty art, which thou never saw before, to teach you how
to know your sweetheart." "This is a pretty art indeed,
and I should be glad to know it."
"Hark! hark! daughter, is not yonder the cuckoo sing-
ing?" "Yes, yes, and I have not heard her sing this year
before now." "Then, daughter, sit down by me, but hold.
Are you fasting?" "Yes." "But has no man kissed you?"
"No." Then sit thee down by me. I think the cuckoo is
mad, what a life she leads; I think she is a witch; but no
matter: put off thy right shoe and stocking, and let me look
between thy great toe and the next: Now, daughter, see,
this hair is a long one; look well at it, and tell me what
colour it is." "I think it is really yellow." "The same
colour will thy husband's hair be." "But, Mother Bunch, I
do not matter the colour so much as the condition." "I
will tell you his condition: he may prove surly enough,
and perhaps make you do as you did not imagine: you
must give him good words, and give him good for eviL"
"Mother Bunch, you make me smile, you talk so merrily."
•' Come, daughter, it is no great matter; merry talk does no
harm, but drives the time away. But hark! daughter, I
have had three husbands myself, and I think to have
another; and do you think I am so mad to tell him all I
do? Then, my daughter, I have another way to tell you
who must be your husband; I have proved it true; and it
is the best time of the year to try it, therefore, observe what
I say: Take a St Thomas' onion, pare it and lay it on a


MOTHER BUNCH'S CLOSET NEWLY BROKE OPEN. 163
cleau handkerchief under your pillow; and as you lie down,
say these words—
Good St. Thomas, do me right,
And bring my love in dreams this night,
That I may view him in the face.
Then go to sleep as soon as you can, and in your first
sleep you shall dream of him who is to be your husband,
This I have tried, and it has proved true. Yet I have another
pretty way for a maid to know her sweetheart, which is as
follows: Take a summer apple of the best fruit, stick pins
close into the apple, to the head, and as you stick them take
notice which of them is the middlemost, and give it what
name you fancy; put it into thy left hand glove, and lay it
under thy pillow on Saturday night; after thou gettest into
bed, then clap thy hands together, and say these words—
If thou be he that must have me
To be thy wedded bride,
Make no delay, but come away,
In dream to my bedside.
And in thy sleep thou shalt see him, and be not afraid,
for it is a sign he will prove a good husband. And this is a
good way for a young man to know his sweetheart, giving
the middlemost pin the name he fancies best, putting the
apple in his right hand glove, and laying it under his pillow
when he is in bed, saying—
If thou be she that must have me
In wedlock for to join,
Make no delay, but come away
So I may dream of mine.
"And that night he may see her, and if she come it is
a sign she will prove a good wife. And now, daughter,
the time passes away, and I must be gone, and so bid you
farewell." "Mother Bunch, I give you many thanks for
your good counsel, and intend to take your advice."


164: AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Upon a time, Mother Bunch, being at a wedding, where
young men and maids were met, who had a mind for some
discourse with her, one young man said, " Mother Bunch, we
know you are a woman that has a judgment in many things,
I pray, tell my fortune." "I cannot tell fortunes," snid she,
"but thou blinkest too much with one eye to be true to
one woman." "Aye, but, mother," says another, "what
think you of me?" "Thou mayest come to marry a
lady, if thou canst but lay a great wager with her, three
to one; and if she wagers with thee, thou wilt be very
likely to win, for thou hast mettle in thee; but have a care
she win not the odds, if she does thou art clean gone. So
farewell."
Now Mother Bunch took her leave; and going home, she
met a maid going to a wedding. "How do you do, mother?"
"Thank you, daughter, whither are you going?" "To the
wedding, I believe; but hark you, mother, will you sit down
a little, I have something to say to you." "What is it,
daughter?" "When shall I be married?" "Would you
fain be married?" "Yes, mother, if I could get a good
husband." "Then, daughter, I will tell you the best I can,
if you will take my advice. In the month of January are
many dangerous days for thee to take notice of; these are
the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth: there are a great
many more; but if thou marriest on these days, thy husband
will cuckold thee, or thou wilt make him one, or else you
will soon be parted by one means or other; but for all
there be so many bad days in this month I can tell you of
one day which is lucky, and many young men and maids
have a deal of heart's ease on that day, or the day after, as I
shall let you understand; it is the 21st, called St. Agnps'
day. This St. Agnes has a great favour for young men and
maids, and will bring their sweethearts, if they follow my
rules: Upon this day you must be sure to keep a fast, and
neither eat nor drink all that day, nor at night; neither


MOTHER BUNCH'S CLOSET NEWLY BROKE OPEN. 165
let man, woman, nor child kiss thee on that day; and thou
must be sure, when thou goest to bed, to say—
Now, St. Agnes, play thy part,
And send to me my own sweetheart;
And show me such a happy bliss,
This night to dream of a sweet kiss.
And be sure to fall asleep as soon as you can, and before
you awake out of your first sleep, you shall see him come
before you, and shall perceive by his habit what tradesman
he is; and be sure thou declare not thy dream unto any one
in ten days, and by that time thou mayest see thy dream
come to pass. All this I have proved three times; for I
have had three husbands, and they all proved tradesmen.
The first was a straw joiner, the second a louse-trap maker,
and the third a gentle craft, and he came to me with his awl
in his hand, and so I waked out of my dream; but I thought
the time long till he came again; as all maids do that desire
to be married. I know some maids would wait in order to
have a husband with the best conditions, and endowed with
the best qualifications; nay they would have impossibilities:
but I am afraid they will make good the old proverb, that
says—
'If you will not when you may,
When you would you shall have nay.'
Therefore, take my advice, if a young man comes to you
of a civil carriage, and you think you can love him, be not
scornful to him, but give him a civil encouragement, accord-
ing to his behaviour.
And as to young men, my advice is, they be wary in
their choice, since there is as much danger in choosing of a
wife as a husband: wherefore, all young men, take my
advice: choose not one with a long nose, a scolding brow,
and thin lips, for in such there is great, danger. He who is
tied to a scold is tied to sorrow; choose not one who is
counted a slut, if she be a slut, she is idle also, and these two


166 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
companions will bring thee to poverty; nay, besides this, the
old saying is, ' A slut will poison the gout, and if you can't
eat with her, you won't sleep with her.'
But this is the best way of choosing a wife: Take one
for love, not for riches which fly away, for true love never
varies; and where that is, the blessing of God is. If you
desire to live a long life, be not overfond of riches, but
choose a civil handsome maid, who is not given to pride:
such a maid may make a fine wife. But she that brings a
handsome fortune, will be always throwing it in your teeth,
which often occasions great disturbances; therefore let this
suffice for those who desire to get good wives; and take
notice of what I have already said, and you may fare the
better.
And as for young maids, this is my advice, if they will
not try St. Agnes, let them be sure to choose a clever, honest
man, who is able to support them in comfort."
Part II.
On Michaelmas Day, Mother Bunch, sitting on the bank of
a river, joining to a neighbouring grove, beheld the late
flourishing branches in their decay, whose sapless leaves
were falling to the earth, from which she began seriously to
consider her own mortality; and since time had hurried on
the winter of her age, and covered her aged head with
snowy locks, she might expect, ere long, to fall, like the en-
feebled leaves. Therefore, she resolved, as she had been a
kind friend to young men and maids, to give a further
testimony of her regard before she left this world. For as
her painful study and strict observation had made a large
improvement in her stock of knowledge she would not
have it buried in the grave with her, but leave it to pos-
terity for the benefit of young men and maids, whereby they
might learn to understand their good and bad fortunes, and


MOTHER UUNCll's CLOSET NEWLY BROKE Ol'EN. 167
'- 4' .. - . — '—> —''' —
by the directions of this book be thoroughly furnished with
many secret rarities never before published to the world.
Accordingly, the next day she wrote letters of invitation
to the young men and maids to repair to her house on St.
Luke's Day. The maids she appointed to meet in the morn-
ing, to be first instructed, and that for two reasons. First,
as she herself was a woman, she would teach them first, lest
the bachelors should be too hard for them before they had
learned their lessons. Secondly, that young women should
be first served in this, it being Horn Fair Day, many of the
bachelors would be employed in the morning, in handing
old citizens' young wives to the fair; and in the afternoon
they might be at liberty. This was the determination of
old Mother Bunch.
Now against the time appointed, old Mother Bunch
decked up her house, neat and fine, and, getting up early in
the morning, placed herself in the closet, where her treasure
lay.
Now the first that entered the room was one Margery
Loveman, a maltster's maid, who, with a low curtsey, said,
"Good morrow, Mother Bunch, I am come to partake of
your bounty; for I hear you have a second time opened your
Golden Closet of Curiosities for the benefit of young lovers."
"Yes, daughter," quoth Mother Bunch, "so I have, and thou
shalt partake of the same. Here is infallible rules and direc-
tions to guide you in all manner of love intrigues; also, how
to know what sort of man you shall marry, and whither
he will prove loving or not."
"Dear mother, these are things I fain would know; for,
believe me, I have many sweethearts, and I willingly choose
the best, lest I should marry in haste and repent at leisure.
'Tis true, I have near a hundred and fifty p.muds to my
portion, the great noise of which has brought many sweet-
hearts, for I have no less than five or six at this time; and,
mother, I would fain know which of them comes for love of


168 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
me, and which of them for money." "Daughter," quoth
Mother Bunch, " here is an experiment, if you will but try,
it will make a clear discovery of the reality of their love.
Let a report be spread that thou hast lately been robbed of
all that thou hast, both money and apparel. Now, if after
this, there is one of them that continues his love as before,
you may be very certain that he is faithful; but, be sure
that you keep this counsel to yourself, that the secret be not
discovered." "I will take care of that, dear mother," quoth
Margery, "and I heartily thank you for this kind and sea-
sonable advice."
"Good morrow, daughter," she replied,
"Young men are false, and must be tried."
She was no sooner gone, but in comes Mrs. Susan, a young
sempstress from Salisbury, with sorrowful lamentation,
weeping and wringing her hands. "How now!" quoth
good Mother Bunch; "what is the matter with you,
daughter, that you go on at this rate?" "Alas! Mother
Bunch," quoth Susan, "my—my—my—my—my—my!"
"What my?" said Mother Bunch. Quoth sobbing Susan,
"My sorrows are more than I am able to bear; for, mother,
dear Frank the fiddler, my old love, and I are fallen out, and
he swears he will not have me." "Come, daughter," quoth
Mother Bunch, "be of good comfort, for I will put thee in an
effectual way to find whither Frank the tiddler be really
angry with thee or not; and if he be, I will teach thee in-
fallibly how to obtain his favour again. 'She that is afraid
of every grass, must not think to go in a meadow.' Let
your angry love but alone for a season, and he will soon
come to himself again; for I know that love is a puny dar-
ling, and wants very frequently to be humoured. Therefore,
let him alone, in time he will forget his anger, and return to
thee again, if he has any principle, good nature, or loyal
love in him; and if not, you had better be without him than
during your whole life to be tied to so sour an apple tree.


MOTHER BUNCH S CLOSET NEWLY BROKE OPEN. 1G9
Remember the old proverb, ' Set thy stool in the sun; if a
knave goes, an honest man may come.' I hope thou hast
not been playing the wanton wagtail with him, hast thou?"
"No, indeed, dear Mother Bunch; but yet, I must needs
confess that he fain would have played a lesson on my lute
last market day, but I would not let him; and that was the
cause of our falling out." '< Sayest thou so, daughter? Why,
then, I will tell thee, that since he found thou withstood his
temptations, with so much resolution, take my word for it
he will never forget" thee." "W.ell, dear mother," quoth
young Susan, "your words have been comfortable to me;
and when I find the good effects, I will return and give you
an account of it. And so farewell, dear mother, for the
present."
"Right happy, daughter, may you be,
In guarding your true purity."
The next that entered the room was Eliza, the miller's
maid, who, after making a very low curtsey, and giving
Mother Bunch the time of the day, desiring to know
for what reason she sent her that letter ?" Why," says the
old woman, "to the end that I might reveal to you some
secrets relating to love, which I have never discovered
to the world." "But, dear Mother Bunch," quoth
Margery, "I am a mere stranger to love, for I
never in my life knew what it meant." "That may
be," quoth Mother Bunch; "yet you know not how
soon you may receive the arrows of Cupid, then you
would be glad of some of my advice, for I know by myself,
that the best woman of you all, at one time or other, has a
desire to know what it is to be married." Quoth Mar-
gery, "You talk merrily, Mother Bunch." "Well, daughter,"
quoth Mother Bunch, "you may term it as you please;
but I will appeal to your own conscience whether or no you
would be glad, with all your heart, of a kind and loving
husband."


170 AMUSING FROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
'' Dear Mother," quoth Margery, " you come quite close to
the matter; and if I may be so free as to speak my own
mind, I could willingly have such a one; for though
housekeeping is said to be very chargeable often, yet, on the
other hand, a married state is honourable." "Thou sayest
well, daughter," quoth Mother Bunch, " and if thou hast a
mind to see the man whom thou shalt marry, then follow
strictly my directions, and you shall not fail of your desire.
Let me see—this is St. Luke's Day, which I have found by
long study to be of greater use to that purpose than that of
the celebrated St. Agnes, which I formerly recommended
you to; and the ingredients now to be used are of a quite
different and finer quality, and far more excellent for per-
forming the same.
Now I would have you take some marigold flowers, a
large sprig of sweet marjoram, a sprig of fresh thyme, and a
small quantity of wormwood; dry these together before the
fire, till you may rub them to a powder; then sift the same
through a piece of fine lawn. This being done, take a small
quantity of virgin honey, and right white wine vinegar, and
simmer them together in a new earthen porringer, over a
mild and gentle fire; all which being done, anoint your
forehead and cheeks, and lips, likewise, with the same, just
the moment you are lying down in your bed; always re-
membering to repeat these words three times—
St. Luke, St. Luke, be kind to me,
And let me now my true love see.
This said, hasten to sleep with all speed; then in tho
soft slumber of your night's repose the very man you are to
marry shall appear before you walking to and fro near to
your bedside, very plain and visible to be seen: you shall
perfectly behold the colour of his hair, his visage, stature,
and deportment. And if he be one that will prove faithful,
he will approach you with a smile, and offer to salute you;
which, when he does, do not seem to beoverfond or peevishly


MOTiiKii hunch's closet newly broke open. 171
froward, but receive the same with a becoming mild and
modest smile. Now, if he be one that will, after marriage,
forsake his house to wauder after strange women, then will
he offer to be rude and uncivil with thee, at which time
thou shalt lift up thy hand to smite him; so doing, it will
go well with thee, and thy guardian angel will keep thee
ever safe. Daughter, these are rarities which I never before
divulged. Do but put this in execution, and I am certain
it will answer the desired effect." "I must needs thank you
for your love," quoth Margery; "and so farewell, Mother
Bunch." "Good-bye, daughter," she replied.
"Let joy and pleasure crown your days,
And a kind man your fortune raise."
The next that appeared was Kate, the cloth-worker's
daughter; then Doll, the dairymaid; Joan, Bridget, Nancy,
and Phillis, in number about forty together, each of them
crying out with a loud voice, "Dear Mother Bunch, remem-
ber me." "O remember me," quoth another; and so did
they all, till they made the poor old woman's ears deaf with
the clamorous noise. "My dear daughters," quoth Mother
Bunch, " sit you all down and be quiet, for there is never a
one amongst you but will partake of my bounty. Daughters,
I will sit in the midst of you, where I shall read over a very
interesting' lecture. My real motive is to give you a full
account of some rare and excellent curiosities, in my Golden
Closet, newly broke open; declaring that it is my opinion
that those things which are profitable to one maid may not be
prejudicial, in any respect, to another, and this I shall begin.
First, if any of you here desire to know tbe name of the
man whom you shall marry, let her seek in the summer time
for a green peasecod, in which there are nine pease; when
you have done this, either write, or cause to be written, on a
slip of paper, these words—
Come in, my dear,
And never fear.


172 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Writing which, 3'ou must carefully close within the afore-
said peasecod, and lay the same under the threshold of the
door, and then observe the next man that comes into the
house; for you shall certainly be married to one of the same
name.
Secondly, she that desires to be satisfied whether she
shall get the man desired or no, let her take two lemon-
peels in the morning, and wear them all the clay under
her arm-pit, then at night let her not fail to take them,
and rub the four posts of the bed with the same; which
being done, in your first sleep, he will seem to come and
present you with a couple of choice lemons, if not, there is
no hope.
Thirdly, she that is desirous to know what manner of
fortune she shall marry, whether a gentleman, a tradesman,
or a traveller, the experiment is thus: Take a walnut, a
hazel nut, and a nutmeg; crack the two nuts, and take off the
scurf; peel them clear from the kernels, and grate part of the
nutmeg to them; this being done, bruise the kernels of the
nuts, and mix them with butter and sugar, making them up
into peels, which are to be taken just when you are lying
down in your bed. Then if your fortune be to marry a
gentleman, your sleep will be filled with finegoldeu dreams,
variety of sweet music, and many running footmen; if a
tradesman, great noise and tumults; if a traveller (who is a
seaman), then frightful visions of lightning and roaring
thunder will disturb your sleep. This has been often tried,
and as often approved.
Fourthly, St. Agnes' Day I have not wholly blotted out of
my book; no, but I have found a more exact way of trial
than before: You shall not need to abstain from kisses, nor
be forced to keep a fast from a glance of your love in the
night. If you can rise to be at the parish church door
punctually between the hours of twelve and one in the
morning, and then and there put only the fore-finger of


174 AMOSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
where continue till twelve or one o'clock, saying nothing,
•whatever you see, for after midnight, each one's sweetheart
or husband, that shall be, will take each maid's sprig out of
the rosewater, and sprinkle his love's smock, and those who
are so unfortunate as never to be married, their sprigs shall
not be moved; and in consequence hereof many sobs and
heavy sighs will be heard. This has been very often tried
in our own country, and never failed of the desired effect.
These things I have found out of late,
To make young lovers fortunate.
And now, my dear daughters, I have but a few more
words to say at this time, and they are by way of caution:
In the twelve months I find above one and thirty very un-
fortunate days; and therefore, as you regard the future
happiness of your lives, take care that you do not enter into
wedlock upon those days. Now, for your better instruction,
I'll tell you which they be.
In January there are four; the 7th, 16th, 17th, and 18th.
February hath two; the 5th and 10th.
March hath three; the 9th, 10th, and 21st.
April hath two; the Gth and 7th.
May hath two; the 4th and 13th.
June hath three; the 7th, 9th, and 10th.
July hath two; the 9th and 17th.
August hath two; the 11th and 15th.
September hath three; the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th.
October hath three; the 4th, 14th, and 15th.
November hath two; the 5th and 24th.
December hath three; the 6th, 7th, and 9th.
Observe my rules for all these days,
And then you will your fortune raise."
This said, old Mother Bunch presented them with a cup
of her fine cordial water, and so dismissed them; and the
young damsels, with rapturous hearts, returned her their
hearty thanks.


MOTHER BUNCH'S CLOSET NEWLY BROKE OPEN. 175
After Mother Bunch had done dinner, the young men
came, to wit, Tom the miller, Ralph the thatcher, and Robin
the ploughman, with a great number of other trades and
callings, all whom Mother Bunch invited to sit down that
she might deliver her wholesome counsels to them.
And first she begins with Tom the miller, saying, "Ah,
Tom! thou art a sad wild young fellow; there is not a maid
that can come to the mill but thou will be fooling with them,
but take my word for it, if you do not leave off in time, you
will certainly spoil all your fortune. What woman do you
think, having a portion, will have such a one? She may
justly conclude that you will still run a catterwauling after
young wenches, and leave her to sigh and weep for want of
domestic happiness,—you know what I mean, Tom."
"Yes, yes, mother," quoth Tom, "but sure you do not
take me for such a one." "Yes, Tom, I do, and am seldom
mistaken. It is you millers that fill the country so full of
cracked-headed maidens, that when an honest husband comes
to marry he finds the hearts already stolen away. But
farewell, I'll have no more to say to such a fellow as you."
Then turning to Ralph the thatcher, she said, " I find you
are very desirous of a wife, and your ambition is such that
she must be rich, young, and beautiful: cannot you content
yourself with honest Joan, to whom you gave promise of
marriage? And now I find you have a mind to leave her,
which if you do, and obtain such a one as you desire, I can
tell you what will follow. She won't stand picking of straws
with you, her fair face will find many friends in a corner,
and you may chance to be a cuckold, and indeed but justly,
served in your kind; and, therefore, I advise you to return
to your old love, for she is a very honest girl, and therefore
far more fit for you than such a cay butterfly as you have
lately followed." t
Then she stretched forth her hand to Robin the plough-
man, saying, "Thou art an honest fellow, and good fortune


176 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
will always attend thee. I mean not bags of gold nor heaps
of silver; but thou shalt have a careful and industrious wife,
one that will ever be willing and ready to labour, a true and
faithful yoke-mate, and one that will be a cheerful partner
in thy weal and woe, to comfort and support thee under the
greatest and most severe trials. For, as the poet has it—
, 'That burden may be borne
By two with care,.
Which is perhaps too much
For one to bear.'
Honest Robin, this is thy happy fortune, and as thou art
a downright honest fellow, I am glad to find it so."
Thus Mother Bunch went round the room.
And told them what would be their doom,
If they her daughters did betray,
And steal their maiden hearts away,
Each would be punished with a bride,
By whom he should be hornify'd;
But if they were right honest men,
Each of them should have fortune then.
This said, she did her blessing give,
In love and happiness to live;
Which when they did the same receive,
Of Mother Bunch they took their leave,
Declaring she had told them more,
Than e'er they understood before.
Now for these poor young creatures that have pined
themselves to death, and have no cure, the worst of
pretenders to physiognomy might prescribe them a remedy,
and all those of what constitution soever that have hoped
houses of their own, I will show you how you shall see the
person that is to give you one, collected from Trismegistus
and Cornelius Agrippa.
On midsummer Eve three or four of you must dip your
dresses in fair water, then turn them wrong side outwards,


MOTHER BUNCH'S CLOSET NEWLY BROKE OPEN. 177
and hang tbem on chairs before the fire, and lay some salt
in another chair, and speak not a word. In a short time
the likeness of him you are to marry will come and turn your
dresses, and drink to you; but if there be any of you will
never marry, they will hear a bell, but not the rest.
Another way, quickly tried.
Take hemp-seed, and go into what place you will by your-
self, carry the seed in your apron, and with your right hand
throw it over your shoulder saying,
Hemp-seed I sow, hemp-seed I sow,
And he that must be my true love,
Come after me and mow.
And at the ninth time expect to see the figure of him you
are to wed, or else hear a bell as before.
Yet though you hear the sad and dismal bell
It is your own fault if you hear the horrid knell.
Another way.
You that dare venture into a churchyard, just as it strikes
twelve at night, take a naked sword in your hand, and go
nine times about the church, saying,
Here's the sword, but where's the scabbard?
Which continue the whole time you go round; and the
ninth time the person you are to marry will meet you with
a scabbard and so kiss you : if not, a bell as before.
Another, called the Dutch Cake.
Three, four, or more of you must make a cake of flour and
salt (no matter of what flour), and some of each of your own
baking; make your cake broad, and each of you set the two
first letters of your name with a pin, but leave such a dis-
tance that it may be cut; then set it before the fire, but
speak not one word. Turn it each of you once; and the
person to be your husband will cut out your name; then
the next, unto the last.
Another way.
The first change of the new moon on the New Year, the


178 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
first time you see it, hold your hands across, saying this
three times—
New moon, new moon, I pray thee,
Tell me this night who my true love will be.
Then go to sleep without speaking a word, and you will cer-
tainly dream of the person you shall marry.
Another way experienced often.
Young men and maids may take some rosemary flowers,
bay leaves, a little thyme, sweet marjoram, and southern-
wood; make these into powder, and with barley flour make
a cake, but do not bake it. Lay this under your head any
Friday night; and if you dream of music, you will wed
those you desire in a short time; if of the sea or ships, you
will travel first; if of a church, you must be contented to
die single.
THE
COMICAL HISTORY
OF THE
COURTIER AND TINKER
Chapter I.
The Courtier finds the Tinker asleep; he has him carried in
that posture to his house; lays him, on a Bed in a
stately Room with rich Clothes by him; feasts and
entertains him with fine Music; makes him
* drunk, and then conveys him
back again.
A Courtier one day riding along with his retinue espied a
Tinker who had been taking a very early draught to quench
the spark in his throat, lying fast asleep, and snoring under
a sunny bank, having made his budget into his pillow, to


CoMicAL history of The countier AND Tinkert. 179
rest his drowsy head upon; and the Courtier's country
house not being far off, he immediately caused his servants
to take him up very softly, and carry him thither, then to
put him in a stately bed in the next chamber, pull off his
foul shirt, and put on him a clean one, then convey away his
old clothes, and lay rich ones by him. This was punctually
observed. The Tinker being thus laid, slept soundly till
evening; when rousing up between sleeping and waking, and
being dry, as drunkards usually are, he began to call for
some drink, but was greatly frighted to find himself in such
a palace, furnished with lights and attendants about him,
that bowed to him, and harmonious music, accompanied
with most charming voices, but none of them to be seen.
Whereupon looking for his old clothes and budget, he found
a muff and rich attire glistening with gold by him, which
made him fancy himself metamorphosed from a Tinker to a
Prince. He asked many questions, but in vain, yet being
willing to rise, the attendants arrayed him in the richest
attire; so then he looked on all sides admiring the sudden
change of fortune, and as proud as a peacock when he
spreads his tail against the glittering beams of the sun. And
being arrayed, they had him into another room, where was
a costly banquet prepared, and placed him in a chair, under
a fine canopy, fringed with gold, being attended with wine
in gilded cups. . At first he strained courtesy, but being en-
treated to sit down, the banquet being solely at his disposal,
he fell to most heartily. Then after supper they plied him
with so much wine, as to make him dead drunk, then stripped
him, and put on his old clothes; they carried him as they had
brought him, and laid him in the same posture they found
him, being all this time asleep; and when he awoke he took
all that had happened before for a vision, telling it wherever
he came, that he had really and verily dreamed he had
been a prince, telling them as well as he could all that had
happened, but plainly he saw now again his fortune would


COMICAL IJISTOHY OF THE COURTIKK AND TINKER. 181
as he was passing by, he ordered him to be called in to
do some work; and after he had done it to come to bim (as
having laid all his schemes with his servants beforehand).
"Come, old fellow," said he, "you look as if you were as dry
as Vulcan. What say you if I should order you where you
may have your fill of good drink? Would not you be glad
of it?" "Ay, master," said he, making a nod and a scrape,
"God's blessing on your heart for it, and I thank you too."
Upon this he ordered his butler to have him down, and
be sure not to stint him, and let him have his full swill. They
instantly went, and the Tinker followed them very joyfully.
But they had no sooner gotten him down, but shutting to
the door close, they ordered him to strip immediately; at
the which he much wondered, and began to make excuses
on account of the blackness of his hide, which would be very
undecent and unseemly. But they pretended it was the
way of the cellar, when a new comer was to be made free of
it, but never after, how oft soever he came. He being will-
ing to comply, that he might have his skin full of good
liquor, that might prove both as meat and cloth to him, off
went his leathern doublet, breeches, shoes, stockings, and
hat; as for shirt he had none, having pawned it to his
hostess that morning for three noggins of brandy. Then
taking a frisk or two in a merry vein, they surprisingly
whipped him up by the heels, and put him into a full butt of
strong beer, the upper head being taken up for that purpose.
So he dipped over head and ears like a duck that dives. Yet
after he had recovered his legs, it was but just shoulder
deep, for when upon winding of the horn, whilst he would
have been scrambliug out, down came Sir John, demanding
what was the matter. They told him " the Tinker was not
content to drink full horns at the cock, but would needs go
in to drink all at a draught." "Aye," said he, "this is a
thirsty soul indeed; but since he undertakes to drink it, he
shall do it, for none of my servants shall drink it now, he


182 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
has washed his dirty hide in it;" crying to him with an
angry voice, " Sirrah, you rogue, drink it as you proposed,
or it shall be worse for you," and while he stood shivering
up to his neck, and was endeavouring to lay the blame upon
others, the Courtier seemed impatient to be dallied with,
drew a broad sword that was two-edged, protesting bis head
should go off for abusing his good liquor, was there no more
Tinkers in the world, and with that, making a full blow at
him, as the Tinker believed. And seeing him in such a
passion, he to avoid the coming stroke dropped down over
head and ears, staying under as long as he could, and peeping
up, and seeing the threatening danger, he dropped down
again for six or seven times. Till fearing to carry the jest
too far, he gave him a short respite, telling him, "Now he
could not report abroad he was so very niggardly of his drink,
for he had or might have enough of it." Then bidding his
servants to take him out, and ordered him to depart, or drink
it up, which he thought fit. And thus he went away
laughing. The Tinker, who was at first very angry, but
being cheered up with a cordial dram, and so made sensible
that all this was but a frolic, and that for the future their
master would be his good friend if he behaved civilly, he
was pacified, and so putting on his clothes, he beat the road
for a gang of merry fellows of his acquaintance, informing
them, there was a hogshead of March beer at Sir John's,
which they all might be partakers of if they choosed ; they
came joyfully, and had it brought into the court-yard, in
black jacks. After they had drunk it, the Tinker told them
the cause of its being given away, was because there was a
swine that had unexpectedly fallen into it; but on further
inquiry he told them all the circumstances, which set them
a-laughing till their sides were almost cracked. Afterwards
they had plenty of victuals sent them, and the Tinker being
thus made free of the cellar, was ordered to call at the house,
and have victuals and drink as often as he came that way.


COMICAL HISTORY OF THE COURTIER AND TINKER 183
And so they departed, spreading the fame of Sir John in
every place they came, as a bountiful benefactor; singing as
they went, the following song:—
Good house-keeping, they say, is fled,
Or hawks or hounds, and whores have rid her;
But we say she's not fled nor dead,
Who have so plentiful beheld her.
LoDg may he flourish in this nation,
And get it praised as of old,
That we by following the French fashion,
May not make charity grow cold.
Chapter III.
A Comical Trick he made the Tinker serve an old Farmer,
who used to ride sleeping, making him think
that his horse was the Devil.
The Tinker being better pleased with his treatment, often
frequented the house, making the Knight merry with his
pleasant songs, eta, so that he was much pleased with his
conversation, and often gave him money, and one day put
him upon a frolic, seeing him an apt fellow. He had seen
an old curmudgeon farmer, sleeping and nodding on his
horse, as he came from market, and giving the Tinker direc-
tions what to do, when he should come by, knowing his
hour, and delivering him a parcel of crackers and other fire-
works, he caused him to be dressed in a raw hide with
horns, when the Tinker, according to order, with the help of
a servant, having stopped the farmer's horse, while the rider
was sleeping, pitched four stakes, one at each corner of the
pannel, and ungirting, he drew the horse from under, when
taking off the bridle, he put his own head into the headstal;
so then after he placed the fireworks under the pannel, he
put a fuse lighted to them, and so kept motion as the horse
used to do with the nodding farmer, who having the reins
about his wrist, by his kicking he awaked, and seeing him-


184 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
t
self on a frightful beast, which he took for Beelzebub, he
cried out, when the fire-work taking, blew up him and the
pannel, and made him to fall quash to the ground, so that
the Tinker made off with the stakes and pannel. The old
man no sooner got up, but he fell to running, crying out,
"The Devil, the Devil," and never durst come that way
again but in company, rather choosing to go five miles
about.
Chapter IV.
The Tinker complains to the Courtier of a Butcher's Dog
that often assaulted him. The Courtier, in the
Tinkers habit, fights and kills him;
and of his Examination before a Justice.
The Tinker being awarded with a crown for his dexterity,
went away; but one day being in merry talk with our
Courtier, he changed his tone sadly, and told him that a
butcher, on such a road, kept a lion-like mastiff dog; that he
was not so much afraid to encounter him, as that if he would
kill him, the butcher as he told him, would send him to jail;
and punish him at the next sessions, having one Justice
Clodpole on his side, who was his landlord, and whose house
he served with meat, and doubted not would hearken to any-
thing he said against him although ever so false and unjust
.
Sir John having listened to his complaint, and laughed,
bid him be of good cheer, for himself would try the dog
adventure. Upon this he ordered some clothes to be brought,
which the Tinker stripping, put on, and the Knight
put on his, except his shirt, and taking his budget, pike-
staff, kettle, and hammer, away he went, beating his kettle,
and crying, "Work for a Tinker," till he came near the
butcher's house. The dog soon heard the tink, tink, and
away he runs open-mouthed to meet the Tinker, they laugh-
ing to see how he would fright him; but Sir John having
now thrown down his budget, was ready to receive him with
the pike end of the staff, and after the dog wheeled, he


COMICAL HISTORY OF THE COURTIER AND TINKER. 185
returned and advanced eagerly to fly at his throat, but he
thrust the pike of his staff into his breast; upon which he
ran away howling, and tracing the ground with his blood,
till he came to his master's, where he died. At this he was so
much enraged, that he carried a constable, and seized the
Knight, who purposely made no resistance. So taking him
before a Justice, he made very great complaints against him.
The Justice very gravely demanded what the fellow was
brought before him for? The butcher said, "An't please
your Worship, for killing my servant." "Aye," said the
Justice, "he looks like a bloody-minded villain, therefore
write his mittimus, and see he be well-ironed, lest he make
his escape."
"I beseech your good Worship not to be so rash and
hasty," said the Knight, "as to pass sentence upon me so
hard. Pray ask this butcher what servant of his I killed?"
"Ay," said the Justice, " let him speak." "Then in truth,"
said the Butcher, "I ought in conscience to speak the truth;
it was but a dog, but such a dog, as I say I would not have
taken the best five guineas in the country for. Do you see me,
sir, he had rave qualities over other dogs; he would not only
fetch home my sheep out of the field when I wanted them,
and save me that trouble, but do you see, Mr. Justice, he
would go a sheep-hunting, and drive me home a couple, and
sometimes half a dozen of wild sheep, which nobody owned
or I did not think fit to inquire after, or they after me; so
that he made me a thriving man: besides he was the safe-
guard of my house, and 1 believe that he killed him on pur-
pose that he might rob me."
"Ay, ay," said the Justice; "all this is true, and you
speak like an honest man, and he looks indeed like a rogue,
and I believe you; but, however, we can't, indeed hang
men for a dog, but I'll send him to jail, and there he shall lie
and rot in his lousy linen, and drink kennel-water, and not
one bit of meat, unless now and then a roasted turnip, cooled


186 'AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
on a burdock leaf." "This is a very hard sentence, indeed,
Mr. Justice," said our counterfeit Tinker. "No, no," replied
the Justice, "it is too mild a one for such a villain as you
are." But added, "I had like to have forgot a material
point in his examination. Tell me, sirrah, how you came
to kill this honest man's dog?" "Why, sir," said he, "with
the pike end of my staff for running at me to bite me."
"Aye, aye," said the Justice, "that was villainous in you;
could you not have turned the other end, and given him a
rap upon the pate?" "Yes," replied he, "if he had come
to me with his tail foremost."
"Prithee, show me," said the Justice, "how he came at
thee ?"—" I will show your worship ; he came open mouthed,
as I do to you now, crying, bow, wow, wow." And here
running against the Justice, overthrew him in his chair to
the ground; so that he most loudly cried out, "Murder!"
and being got up he ordered his mittimus to be made, revil-
ing him at a desperate rate. But all on a sudden the tables
were turned; for no sooner being asked, but he told his
name. When up starts the Justice, and coming unto him with
a low reverence, "Oh ! Sir John," said he, "Is it you! who
could ever have thought it! I am heartily sorry for what I
have said." Then turning to the butcher, who stood wonder-
ing, said, "Sirrah, you rascal, do you keep dogs to assault
gentlemen? but I will teach you better manners; come bind
him over to the sessions directly, and if he has no bail, take
him to jail. This is a pretty thing indeed, that people can-
not pass the road peaceably for such rogues as you keeping
dogs." But Sir John interposing, all was pacified, and the
butcher went home with a flea in his ear.


THE HISTORY OF THE FOUR KINQS. 187
THE
HISTORY
OF THE
FOUR KINGS
. OF
Canterbury, Colchester, Cornwall, and Cumberland,
Their Queens and Daughters;
BEING
The Merry Tales of Tom Hodge and his School-Fellows.
The Preface.
Not to detain the reader with many words to little purpose,
I shall only here observe that Tom Hodge, with the rest of
his old companions, belonging to the school of Cockermouth,,
were walking on a very pleasant morning in May, and
having tired themselves with pranks and intrigues, towards
evening they sat themselves down on a green bank, beneath
a lovely oak, where they agreed amongst themselves that
everyone should tell a tale, or pay a fine; and because Tom
was the eldest scholar, it was concluded and agreed upon
that he should begin first.
Says Tom, " With all my heart,
So I'll begin my part."
Tale I.
Once upon a time, when the opinion was common in Eng-
land that those whose age and experience enabled them to
determine the consequences of certain actions were wizards
and witches, there was a queen in this realm, whose name


188 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
was Elizabeth; and by reason that the famous town of Lan-
caster was strangely pestered with witches, the queen sent
some judges down to arraign and try them in order to bring
them to justice.
Now the news of this court being to be kept in Lancaster,
spread through all the country, so that a husbandman living
near forty miles from that place, hearing of this news, and
believing they were come to tell the folks whether they
were witches or not, resolved to go to be satisfied in himself,
for he was possessed with a fear that he was a witch, be-
cause he had a wart grew on his neck, which he imagined
to be a dug.
His wife, who had a friend in a corner, and was therefore
glad of his absence, did not only give her consent, but also
dressed him in his best leathern suit and broad-brimmed
hat. So taking leave of his good wife Joan, he trudged on
day and night until he came to the place where the court
was kept; so rushing on and pressing through the crowd,
the crier of the court believing him to be some evidence,
gave orders that they should let him in, which was soon
done, and he was required to speak what he had to say.
'' Why," says the countryman, "d'ye see, I've a dug upon my
neck, which makes me afraid I am a witch, and volks tell
me that these vine gentlemen (pointing to the judges) can
tell a bodj' whether one is a witch or no." The crier of the
court seeing the simplicity of the man, said, "No, no, my
friend, I can assure thee thou art no witch; thou lookest
more like a cuckold than a witch or a conjurer." "I thank
you, zur; and zozays these vine gentlemen." Then having
given three or four scrapes and half a dozen congees, he
came back as wise as Waltham's calf. The next day he was
met by his wife, who waited for his return at the town's
end, to whom she said, " Well, husband, what do the gentle-
men say? are you a witch or no?" "A witch, sweet wife,
no; they tells a body one looks more like a cuckold than a


THE HISTORY OF THE FOUR KINGS. 189
witch or a conjurer." "Why say you so?" replied she ; " I
prithee go back and have them taken up for witches; for
except they had been so, they would not have known you
were a cuckold."
This merry tale so pleased them that they set up a hearty
laugh, which, being ended, the second boy began his tale in
the following manner. .
Tale II.
In the days of yore, when this land was governed by many
kings, among the rest the king of Canterbury had an only
daughter, and she was wise, fair, and beautiful. Her father
sent forth a decree that whoever would watch one night .
with his daughter, and neither sleep nor slumber, he should
have her the next day in marriage; but if he did either, he
should lose his head. Many knights and squires attempted
it, but lost their heads.
Now it happened a young shepherd, grazing his flock near
the road, said to his master, "Zur, 1 zee many gentlemen
ride to the court at Canterbury, but ne'er see 'em return
again." "O, shepherd!" said his master, "I know not how
they should; for they attempt to watch with the king's
daughter, according to the decree, and not performing it,
they are all beheaded." "Well," said the shepherd, "I'll
try my vorton; zo now vor a king's daughter or a headless
shepherd." And taking his bottle and bag, he trudged to
court. Now, in his way, he was to cross a river, over which
lay a plank; down he sits, and pulls off his shoes and stock-
ings to wash his feet, lest the smell of his toes might be the
means of keeping her awake. While he was washing his
feet a fish came smelling and biting his toes; he caught it and
put it into his bag: after which came a second, a third, and
a fourth, which he caught and put in his bag likewise. This
done, and dried his feet, he put on his stockings and shoes,
and pursued his journey till he came to the palace, where
13


190 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
ho knocked loudly with his crook. He was no sooner let in,
and having told his business, but he was conducted to a
hall, prepared for that purpose, where the king's daughter
sat ready to receive him; and the better to lull his senses,
he was placed in a rich easy chair, having delicious wines
for his supper, with many fine dishes of fruit, etc., of which
the shepherd ate and drank plentifully, insomuch that he
began to slumber before midnight. "O shepherd," said the
lady, "I have caught you napping?" "Not, zweet ally, I
was busy." "At what?" said she. "Why a feeshing."
"Nay, shepherd, there is no fish-pond in the hall." "No
matter vor that, I have been feeshing." Says the lady,
"Where do you fish?" "O," quoth he, " in my bag." "O
me, have you catched e'er a one?" "Ay, lady," said he.
"I'd willingly see it," replied she. "Ay, an't please you,
you shall with all my heart." This said, he slyly drew one
of the fishes out of his bag, at the sight of which she was
greatly pleased, and praised it for a pretty fish: and withal
said, "Dear shepherd, do you think you could catch one in
mine too?" "Ay, ay, doubtless I can." Then he fell to fishing,
and in a short time drew a second fish out of the bag pre-
tending he drew it from her. The king's daughter was so
pleased with it that she kissed it, declaring it was the finest
she ever saw. And about half an hour after she said,
"Shepherd, do you think you could get me one more?"
He answered, "Mayhap I may, when I have baited my
hook." "Then make haste, for I am impatient till I have
another." Then the shepherd acted as before, and so pre-
sented her with another fish, which she also extolled and
praised, saying, "It was ten times finer than the other;"
and then gave him leave to sleep, promising to excuse him
to her father.
In the morning the king came into the hall as usual, fol-
lowed by the headsman with a hatchet; but the lady cried
out, "You may return with your hatchet, here is no work


THE HISTORY OF THE FOUR KINGS. 191
for you." "How so," said the king, " has he neither slum-
bered nor slept?" "No, royal father, he has not." "How
has he employed himself?" "In fishing." "Why, there is
never a fish-pond; where did he catch them?" "One in
his own bag, and two in this one of mine." "Say you so?
Well, friend, dost thou think thou can'st catch one in
mine?" "An't please you, my liege, I believe I can." Then
directing the king to lie down, he poked him with a
packing needle, which made him cry out exceedingly; at
which time he drew the other fish out of the bag, and showed
it to the king. His majesty said, "He never knew such
sort of fishing before; however, take my daughter, according
to my royal decree." And so they were married, and the
wedding kept in great triumph, and the shepherd became a
king's son.
"0 that was mighty well," said the third boy, "he had
wonderful good fortune. This puts me in mind of a story,
which I will now tell in my turn."
Tale III.
If I may believe my old grandmother, there lived in the
county of Cumberland a nobleman, who had three sons.
Two of them were comely and tall youths, wise and learned;
the third a merry fool, and went often in a party-coloured
coat and steeple crowned hat, at the top of which was a
tassel. In this dress he made a comical figure. At tins
time the king of Canterbury had a fine daughter, adorned
with all the gifts of nature, joined to an ingenious educa-
tion, she being very ripe-witted, as appealed by her ready
answers and the comical questions she put forth. The king,
her father, published a decree, that whoever should come to
the court, and answer his daughter three questions, without
study or stumbling, should have her in marriage, and also
be heir to the crown at his decease. On publishing this
decree, the said gentleman's two sons agreed between them-


THE HISTORY OF THE FOUR KINGS. 193
"How will you get it out again?" "By a crooked stick
which I have." "Ay, you will ?" said she. "I have it in my
pocket," says Jack." In this Jack answered the three
questions proposed. Then he was preferred to that honour
which was mentioned in the decree. His two wise brothers
then went home like two fools, and left foolish Jack to be
reverenced at court with the king's fair daughter.
Said the fourth boy, "This verifies the old proverb,
1 Fools have fortune'; besides, it has put me in mind of a
story that was told me by my aunt."
Tale IV.
Long before Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table,
here reigned, in the easterly part of this land, a king who
kept his court at Colchester. He was witty, strong and
valiant, by which menus he subdued his enemies abroad
and planted peace among his subjects at home.
Nevertheless, in the midst of all his earthly glory, his
queen died, leaving behind her an only daughter, about
fifteen years of age; under the care of her royal husband.
This lady, from her courtly carriage, beauty, and affability,
was the wonder of all that knew her; but, as covetousness
is the root of all evil, so it happened here.
The king hearing of a lady who had likewise an only
daughter, for the sake of her riches had a mind to marry
her, though she was old, ugly, hook-nosed, and hump-
backed, yet all could not deter him from marrying her. The
daughter of the said piece of deformity was a yellow dowdy,
full of envy and ill-nature; and, in short, was much of the
same mould as her mother. This signified nothing, for in a
few weeks the king, attended by the nobility and gentry,
brought the said piece of deformity to his palace, where the
marriage rites were performed. Long they had not been in
the court before they set the king against his own beautiful
daughter, which was done by false reports and accusations.


THE HISTORY OF THE FOUR KINGS. 195
out her provision, ate her dinner. Then said the heads one
to another, " What shall we do for this lady, who hath used
us so very kindly?" The first said, " I will cause such addi-
tion to her beauty as shall charm the most powerful prince
in the world." The second said, '' I will endow her with
such perfume, both in body and breath, as shall far exceed
the sweetest flowers." The third said, "My gift shall be
none of the least, for as she is a king's daughter. I'll make
her so fortunate that she shall become queen to the greatest
prince that reigns." This done, at their request she let them
down into the well again, and so proceeded on her journey.
She had not travelled long before she saw a king hunting in
the park with his nobles. She would have shunned him,
but the king having a sight of her, made towards her, and
between her beauty and perfumed breath, was so powerfully
smitten that he was not able to subdue his passion, but pro-
ceeded on his courtship, where, after some compliments and
kind embraces, he gained her love. And bringing her to his
palace, he caused her to be clothed in the most magnificent
manner.
This being ended, and the king finding that she was the
king of Colchester's daughter, ordered some chariots to be
got ready that he might pay him a visit. The chariot in
which the king and queen rode was beautified with rich
ornamental gems of gold. The king, her father, was at first
astonished that his daughter had been so fortunate as she
was till the young, king made him sensible of all that hap-
pened. Great was the joy at court among the nobility,
except the queen and her club-footed daughter, who were
ready to burst with malice, and envied her happiness; and
the greater was their madness because she was nOw above
them all. Great rejoicings, with feasting and dancing, con-
tinued many days. Then at length, with the dowry that
her father gave her, they returned home.
"Well," said the fifth boy, "had she not been kind and


196 AM0SING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
beautiful, such good fortune had never come to her lot . And
pray what became of her hump-backed sister-in-law?"
"Indeed I know not." "Why, then," said the fifth boy, "I
can tell you something of her."
Tale V.
She, perceiving that her sister was so happy in seeking her
fortune, would needs do the same; so disclosing her mind to
her mother, all preparations were made; not only rich
apparel, but sweetmeats, sugar, almonds, etc., in great quan-
tities, and a large bottle of Malaga sack. Thus furnished
she went the same road as her sister, and coming near the
cave, there sat the old man, who said, "Young woman,
whither so fast?" "What is that to you?" said she.
Then said he, " What have you in your bag and bottle?"
She answered, " Good things, what you shall not be troubled
with." "Won't you give me some ?" said he. "No, not a
bit nor a drop, unless it would choke you." The old man
frowned, saying, " Evil fortune attend thee." Going on, she
came to the hedge, through which she espied a gap, where
she thought to pass, but going in the hedge closed, and the
thorns run into her flesh, so that with great difficulty she
got out. Being now in a bloody condition, she looks for
water to wash herself, and looking round she saw a well,
and sitting down, one of the heads came iip to her, saying,
"Wash me, comb me, lay me down softly." But she banged
it with her bottle, saying, "Hang you, take this for your
washing." So the second and third heads came up, and met
with no better welcome than the first. Whereupon the
heads consulted among themselves what evils to plague her
with for such usage. The first said, "Let her be struck
with leprasy in her face." The second said, "Let'an addi-
tional stink be added to her breath." The third bestowed
on her a husband, though but a poor country cobbler. This
done, she goes on till she came to a market town, and it


THE HISTORY OF THE FOUR KINGS. 197
being market day, the people smelt a stink, and seeing such
a mangy face, all fled but a poor cobbler, who not long be-
fore had mended the shoes of an old hermit, who, having no
money, gave him a box of ointment for the cure of the
leprosy, and a bottle of spirits for a stinking breath. Now
the cobbler having a mind to do an act of charity, was
minded to try an experiment; so going up to her, asked her
who she was? "I am," said she, " the king of Colchester's
daughter-in-law." "Well," said the cobbler, "if I restore
you to 3'our natural complexion, and make a sound cure
both in face and breath, will you in reward take me for a
husband?" "Yes, friend," replied she, "with all my
heart." With this the cobbler applied the remedies, and
they worked the effect in a few weeks, which being done,
they were married. After some few days spent in town,
they set forward for the couit at Colchester. At length
coming there, and the queen understanding she had married
nothing but a poor cobbler, fell into distraction, and in wrath
hanged herself. The death of the queen pleased the king
much, who was glad he had got rid of her so soon. Having
buried her, he gave the cobbler one hundred pounds, on con-
dition that he and his lady would quit the court. The
cobbler received it, and promised he would. Then setting
up his trade in a remote part of the kingdom, they lived
many years, he mending shoes, and she spinning thread.
Quoth the sixth boy, " I think for a king's daughter she
hath spun a very fine thread, but now for my story."
Tale VI.
A TINKER in our town had but one daughter, whose name
was Tib, and because her father would not let her marry a
miller's man named Jobson, nothing would serve her but she
must go and seek her fortune, so over hills and, mountains,
through groves and lonesome woods she passed, till at length
she met with an old woman, who said unto Tib, " Where are


198 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
you going?" "To seek service," says Tib. "Will you live
with me?" replied the old woman; "my family is small,
myself, my cat, and my dog." Tib answered, "With all my
heart." So home they went to her cottage, which stood by
the side of a grove on the bank of a pleasant river. She no
sooner entered in at the door than she beheld the shelves
furnished with abundance of earthen ware and glasses. She
had not lived long with her before Tib had committed a
fault, for which the old woman was resolved to break every
bone in her skin. For that end she put her into a sack, and
having tied the mouth of the same, she went to the grove to
cut a stick; but while she was gone, Tib with a penknife
opened the sack and got out; and put the dog and cat into
it, filling it up with pans, pipkins, etc., then dragged it to
the door, that the old woman might not come in to miss
them, who, on her return, thinking that Tib had rolled
thither, began to lay on like fuiy, when the dog howled, the
cat mewed, and the pipkins cracked; while the old woman
cries out, " Ah! howl if you will and be poxed.for before you
come out of this sack I'll thrash your bones to chaff." Now
Tib stood at a distance laughing to see how busy she was in
destroying her own furniture, then fled for it, and never
after returned.
"It was well she did," replied the seventh boy, " or else
the old woman would certainly have been revenged on Tib
at last. But now for my story, which shall be the last at
this meeting."
Tale VII.
A YOUNQ man having found a purse in which was five
pounds, he made a proclamation that if anyone would lay
any just claim to it to come to such a tavern, and they
would have it again. To the tavern he went, where, in
meat and drink, he spent a crown. At last when the young
man was ready to go the owner came and demanded the
purse, which he was ready to surrender; but the owner, on


THE HISTORY OF THE FOUR KINGS. 199
knowing a crown was spent, would not receive it, unless
he made up the whole sum. The young man told him he
could not; so an officer was sent for, but before he came the
youth took to his heels, and ran for it with that swiftness,
that, an ass standing in his way, he took hold of his tail to
swing himself by, and twitched it off. A little farther he
overthrew a woman with a child and caused her to fall.
At length he was taken and brought before a justice by the
three sufferers. Having heard their complaints he turned to
the young man, and said, "Young man, several complaints
are here laid against you, which I shall clear up. First,
keep the money you have found, and trade with it till you
have improved it so far as to make him satisfaction, and
then let him have it. You take the ass, and work him till
a new tail grows, then give him to his owner. And you
take the woman home, till she' is as quite recovered as
she was before, and then send her home to her husband.
So with these determinations he dismissed them.
Tale VIII.
In the reign of King Arthur, near the Land's End of Eng-
land, namely the county of Cornwall, there lived a wealthy
farmer, who had one only son, commonly known by the
name Jack Hornby. He was brisk and of a ready wit, so .
that whatever he could not perform by strength, he com-
pleted by ingenious wit and policy.
For instance, when he was no more than seven years of
age, his father sent him into the field to look after his oxen.
The laird, by chance coming across the field, asked Jack
many questions, particularly, "How many commands there
were?" Jack told bim there were nine. The laird replied
there were ten. "Nay," quoth Jack, "sir, you are out of
that; it is true there were ten, but you broke one of them
when you coveted my father's bull." The landlord replied,
"Thou art an arch wag, Jack."


200 amusino rnosE chap-hooks.
"But, sir," says Jack, " can you tell mo how many sticks
goes to build a crow's nest?" "Why," says the landlord,
"there are as many goes as are sufficient for the size of the
nest." "Oho, you are out again, sir," quoth Jack, "there is
none goes, they are all carried."
The landlord finding himself so fooled, trudged away,
leaving Jack in a fit of laughter.
THE PENNY
BUDGET OF WIT
AND
PACKAGE OF DROLLERY.
Scottish Pi'udence.
A parish clerk in the north of England, not long ago, hired
a Scotchman for his servant, who was to go to the cart and
plough, and do other occasional jobs when wanted. In the
course of conversation at hiring, the clerk asked him, if he
could submit to the unpleasant business of digging graves;
to which he exclaimed, " I'll warrant ye, maister, I could dig
doon the kirk for that matter; but let me see, I hasn't been
put to that wark yet; aye, our auld bellman at Jedburgh
used to say, he never had better pay nor better jobs than
howking holes for fowk—faith he was aye merry when folk
dee'd." It happened soon after entering on his service, that
there was a severe storm of snow, which impeded all out-
door work. One morning he came to his master, and asked
him what employment he was to go to that day. The em-
ployer hesitated for some moments, and at last told him, he


'THE PENNY BUDGET OF WIT AND DROLLERY. 201
could find nothing for him to do. Sawney, with great
gravity, replied, " I think, maister, I'll awa up to the kirk-
yard an' howk some graves; we may as weel hae a wheen
ready, for they may come,faster in when they ken we are
prepared for them."
Scottish Atmosphere.
An English gentleman on a tour through Scotland, was un-
fortunately accompanied by wet weather most of the time"
When he set out from Glasgow to Greenock, the morning
was very fine. However, before he had proceeded half way,
he was overtaken by a heavy shower. "Boy," says he to
a little fellow herding near the road-side, "does it always
rain in this country!" "Na," replied the boy, "it sometimes
snaws."
Liberty of the Press.
A MASTER tailor in Glasgow, lately reading the newspapers
to his family, and when expressing the title "Liberty of the
Press in France," one of his daughters interrupted him by
asking what the liberty of the press meant ?" I'll soon
answer that question," said he: "You know when your
mother goes out, and leaves the' key in the cupboard door,
where the bread, butter, aud sugar lies, then you have
access—That's the liberty o' the press."
Donald and the Laird.
A Scottish Laird and his man Donald, travelling south-
ward; at the first English Inn, the room in where they were
to sleep contained a bed for the master and a truckle for the
man, which drew forth from beneath the larger couch. Such
furniture being new to the Highlanders, they mistook the
four-posted pavilion for the two beds, and the Laird mounted
the tester, while the man occupied the comfortable lodging
below. Finding himself wretchedly cold in the night, the
Laird called to Donald to know how he was accommodated.
"Ne'er sae weel a' my life," quoth the gilly. "Ha, mon,"


202 AMUSINQ PROSE CHAT-BOOKS.
exclaimed the Laird, "if it waana for the honour of the
thing, I could find in my heart to come down."
How to read a Sign-Board.
A Highland Drover passing through a certain town,
noticed a sign-board above an entry, with the following
inscription:—
Green Teas, Raw Sugars, Marmalades, Jellies,
Capped Biscuits, and all sorts of
Confectionery Goods
sold down this entry,
read it as follows :—
Green Trees, Raw Sodgers, Mermaids, Jades.
Scabbed Bitches, and all sorts of
Confusionery Goods,
sold down this entry.
Row to Escape Robbery.
A person extremely hard of hearing, travelling between
Paisley and Greenock on horseback, some time since, had
occasion to come off his horse, when the reins slipped from
among his fingers: the horse finding himself at liberty
immediately ran off. The deaf man quickly followed, de-
termined to inquire at all he met if they had seen his horse.
The night was very dark; however, he had not gone far till
he met with two men, whom he accosted with, " Did you see
a horse without a rider?" when he was immediately collared.
He thought it diversion ; says he, " That's no a way to use a
man in the dark "; and endeavouring to shake himself clear,
when instead of slackening their hold they took fresh and
firmer holds, and no doubt used violent language, of which
his deafness deprived him of hearing; seeing all attempts to
get clear fruitless, and dreading they had nothing in
view but an intention to rob him, it instantly occurred to
him his having an ear trumpet sticking in the top of his
boot, which he used in conversation. He immediately pulled


THE PENNY BUDGET OF WIT AND DROLLEUY. 203
it up, laid the muzzle of it across the fellow's arm, and
exclaimed, "If you don't let go your grups I'll blaw your
brains out in a moment!" They jumped over a hedge, and
were out of sight in an instant, the deaf man called after
them, "Set aff, set aff, my lads or I'll be the death o' baith o'
you, learn never to meddle wi' a man i' the dark, for ye
dinna ken what deadly weapons he carries."
Daft Will Speirs.
Will, one day, upon his journey to Eglinton Castle to pay
his regular daily visit, met his Lordship, who seemed not to
notice him. The Earl being only on a walk of pleasure
through his policies, soon came in contact with Will again
sitting at the bottom of a tree, picking a huge bone. "Ay,
ay;" says the Earl, " what this you've got noo, Will." "Ay,
ay," says Will, " anew o' frien's whan folk has ocht: ye gaed
by me awee sin' an' ne'er loot on ye saw me."
How to find Work.
A slater being employed by a gentleman to repair his
house in the country, took along with him a prentice, when
they set to work, and continued to work for some days. The
gentleman having no conception the job was to be of such
duration, came out one morning, and found the apprentice at
work alone, when he expressed himself as surprised at the
continuation of them working so long, and inquired what
had become of his master, to which the boy replied, "He's
awa to Glasgow to look for a job, and if he got ane, this ane
would be done the morn, and if he didna get ane,. he didna
ken when it would be done."
Will Scott.
A celebrated attendant upon the sheriff, well known for
his activity in the execution of his orders, as well as for
taking a bit comfortable guzzle when finances would afford
it, was one Sabbath day snugly seated in a pew behind the
bailies at church. Will had not been there long till he was


204
AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
soon lulled into a sweet slumber, and found himself seated
along with his companions over a good imperial half-
mutchkin; and in a short time the reckoning came a-paying
when some of the party insisted it was already paid. How-
ever, Will happened not to be of that opinion, and true to
his integrity, bawled out with all his might in the midst of
the sermon, " No, no, by my faith it's no pay't, we have had
just ae half-mutchkin, an' twa bottles o' ale, an' there's no a
fardin o't pay't."
Grave-Digger of Sorn.
The grave-digger of Sorn, Ayrshire, was as selfish and
as mean a sinner as ever handled mattock or carried
mortcloth. He was a very querulous and discontented old
man, with a voice like the whistle of the wind through
a key-hole. On a bleak Sunday afternoon in the country,
an acquaintance from a neighbouring parish accosted him
one day, and asked how the world was moving with him.
"Oh, very puirly, sir, very puirly indeed," was the answer,
"the yard has done nothing ava for us this summer,—if you
like to believe me I havena buiiet a leevin' soul this sax
weeks."
Scottish Parrot.
A PARROT perched upon a pole at a cottage door, beakmg
itself in the sun, was observed by a rapacious hawk, which
happened to be passing over it, suddenly dived down and
seized poor Poll by the back; away the hawk flew with his
prey. When passing over a garden Poll observed his old
friend the gardener, and exclaimed, "I'm ridin' noo, John
Laurie." Hawky alarmed at hearing a voice so near, darted
into a tree for safety, when after recovering a little, com-
menced to devour poor Poll, when it roared out with all its
might, "Will you bite, you rascal." The hawk terrified
out of its wits, flew off with a birr, leaving Poll to proceed
homewards at pleasure.
i


206
AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
no means agreeable to Donald. The holy man warmly ex-
horted the dying Highlander to reflect upon the long and
black catalogue of his sins, before it was too late, otherwise
he would have a tremendous account to give at the great
day of retribution, when all the crimes he had committed in
this world would appear in dreadful array, as evidence of his
guilt. "Och I sir," cries the dying man, "an' will a' the
sheeps an' the cows, an' ilka thing Tonal has helped hersel to,
be there?" "Undoubtedly," replied the parson. "Then let
ilka shentlemau tak her nain, an' Tonal will be an honest
man again."
Negro and the Musquito.
A West Indian who had a remarkably fiery nose, having'
fallen asleep in his chair, a negro boy who was waiting,
observed a musquito hovering round his face. Quasi eyed
the insect very attentively; at last he saw him alight on his
master's nose, and immediately fly off. "Ah! bless your
heart," exclaimed the negro, " me right glad see you burn
your foot."
A Brush for the Barber.
A Highlander who sold brooms, went into a barber's shop
in Glasgow a few days since to get shaved. The barber
bought one of his brooms, and after having shaved him, asked
the price of it. "Twopence," said the Highlander. "No,
no," said the barber, " I'll give you a penny, if that does not
satisfy you take your broom again." The Highlander took
it, and asked what he had got to pay? "A penny," said strap.
"I'll gie you a bawbee," said Duncan, " an' if that dinna
satisfy ye, put on my beard again."
The Kellochayde Grace.
The following is preserved traditionally as the grace of the
farmer of Kellochsyde, or Killocsyde, in Clydesdale :—" O
Lord, we'r ay gangan, an we'r ay gettan. We soud ay be
coman to thee, but we'r ay forgettan. We leive in the gude-
mailen o' Kellochsyde, suppan thy gude peisie kale, puir


THE PENNY BUDGET OF WIT AND DROLLERY. 207
sinfou sons of evil that we are. Monie mercies we receive
gude trowth ; and we're little thankfou for them, gude feth
Janet, rax by the spunes, and a' praise and glory sail be
thine. Amen."
New Method of Teaching Music.
A Highland piper having a scholar to teach, disdained to
crack his mind with the names of semibreves, minims,
crotchets, and quivers—" Here, Donald," said he, "tak your
pipies, lad, and gi's a blast—so, very weel blaun indeed; but
what is sound Donald without sense ?—ye may blaw for
ever without makin' a tune o't, if I dinna tell you how thae
queer things on the paper maun help you—you see that big
fellow wi' a round open face (pointing to a semibreve
between the two lines of the bar), he moves slowly, slowly,
from that line to this, while you beat ane wi' your fit, and
gi'e a blast: if now ye put a leg to him, ye mak' twa o' him
and he'll move twice as fast; gif ye black his face, he'll rin
four times faster than the fallow wi' the white face; but if,
after blackin' his face, ye'll bend his knee, or tie his legs,
he'll trop eight times faster than the white faced chap that
I showed you first. Now, whene'er you blaw your pipes,
Donald, remember this, the tighter the fallow's legs are tied,
the faster they will rin, and the quicker they are sure to
dance."
Long- Winded Preachev.
A PARSON in the country taking his text in St. Matthew,
chapter viii. verse 14, "And Peter's wife's mother lay sick of
a fever," preached for three Sundays together on the same
subject. Soon after two fellows going across the church-
yard, and hearing the bell toll, one asked the other who it
was for. "Nay I can't tell; perhaps," replied he, "it's for
Peter's wife's mother, for she has been sick of a fever these
three weeks."


208 AMUSING PKOSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Distinction of Sons and Daughters.
About the year thretty-sax, a company differed "Whether
it was better for a man to ha'e sons or dochtera." They
could not 'gree, but disputed it pro and con. At last one ot
them said to Graham of Kinross (wha hadna yoked wi" them
in the argument), "Laird, what's your opinion?" Quo' he,
"I had three lads and three lassies; I watna whilk o' them
I liked best say lang as they sucket their mither; but de'll
ha'e my share o' the callants when they cam to suck their
father."
.Patrimony and Matrimony.
At an examination of a school in Edinburgh, a gentleman
asked one of the scholars by what name they called property
that descended from a father ?" Patrimony," answered the
scholar; "And what do you call it when descended from a
mother?" "Matrimony," was the reply.
An Officer's Wife.
One of the town's officers of Ayr was struck severely by
accident on the head by his wife. After the fray was ad-
justed, the wife said to her husband, " Henry, had I killed
you, and I been hanged for it, would you marry Kate
M'Lauchlan?"
Highlander and Parrot.
An honest Highlander walking along Holborn, heard a cry,
"Rogue Scot, Rogue Scot." His northern blood fired at the
insult, drew his broad sword, looking round him on every
side to discover the object of indignation. At last he found
it came from a parrot, perched on a balcony within his
reach, but the generous Scot disdaining to stain his trusty
blade with such ignoble blood, put up his sword again, with
a sour smile, saying, "Gin ye were a man, as ye're a green
geese, I would split your weem."
An Irishman.
An Irishman one day was walking on the streets of Belfast,
found a light guinea, and got 18s. for it. Next day he was


THE PENNY BUDGET OF WIT AND DROLLERY. 209
walking, and sees another, and says, "Allelieu, dear honey,
I'll have nothing to do with you, for I lost 3s. by your
brother yesterday."
Captain Silk.
In a party of ladies, on it being reported that a Captain
Silk had arrived in town, they exclaimed, with one excep-
tion, "What a name for a soldier!" "The fittest name in the
world," replied a witty female, "for Silk can never be
Worsted."
A Clever Son.
A farmer's son, who had been some time at the university,
came home to visit his father and mother; and being one
night with the old folks at supper on a couple of fowls, he
told them, that by the rules of logic and arithmetic, he
could prove these two fowls to be three. "Well, let us
hear," said the old man. "Why, this," said the scholar, " is
one and this," continued he, "is two; two and one, you
know, make three." "Since you ha'e made it out sae weel,"
answered the old man, "your mother shall ha'e the first
fowl, I'll ha'e the second, and the third you may keep to
yoursel."
Breaking the Commandments.
A clergyman who wished to know whether the children of
the parishioners understood their Bibles, asked a lad that he
one day found reading the Old Testament, who was the
wickedest man? "Moses, to be sure," said the boy.
"Moses!" exclaimed the parson, "how can that be ? '*
"Why," said the lad, "because he broke all the command-
ments at once."
Not Lost but Drowned.
A Leith merchant being on his usual ride to the south,
came to the ford of a dark river, at the side of which a boy
was diverting himself. The traveller addressed him as
follows :—" Is this water deep?" "Ay, gaen deep," answered


210 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
the boy. "Is there ever any person lost here?" "No,"
replied the boy, "there was never any lost; there has been
some drowned, but we aye get them again."
A Just Remark.
A certain son of St. Crispian, who resides in Paisley, lifting
up his four cornered hat the other morning in a hurry,
found it filled with his wife's fal-de-ral-lals; in a fit of
wrath he exclaimed "Gudesake, Janet, what the de'il gars
you stap a' the trash in the house intil a body's hat."
"Trash, indeed !" exclaimed the indignant spouse, "stap it
on your ain head, and the biggest trash in the house'll be
in't."
Scotchman and Irishman.
A Scotchman and an Irishman were sleeping at an inn
together. The weather being rather warm, the Scotchman
in his sleep put his leg out of the bed. A traveller, in pass-
ing the room door, saw him in this situation, and having a
mind for a frolic, gently fixed a spur upon Sawney's heel;
who drawing his leg into the bed, so disturbed his com-
panion, that he exclaimed, "Arrah, honey, have a care of your
great toe, for you have forgot to cut your nails I belaiv."
The Scotchman being sound asleep, and sometimes, perhaps,
not a little disturbed by other companies, still kept scratch-
ing poor Pat, till his patience being quite spent, he succeeded
in rousing Sawney, who, not a little surprised at finding
the spur on his heel, loudly exclaimed, "De'il tak' the daft
chiel of a hostler, he's ta'en my boots aff last night and left
on the spur."
Charity.
A person who resides in the ancient town of Kilwinning, was
proverbial for his liberality in meat and drink to friends and
acquaintances. Strangers, too, seldom passed without ex-
periencing a due share of kindness. Lately while feasting
nearly a dozen of random visitors on "Pat Luck," a beggar
called at the door soliciting charity, when he very good


THE PENNY BUDGET OF WIT AND DROLLERY. 211
humouredly called out, "I canna help you the day, I ha'e
plenty o' your kin' here already."
Shooting the Devil.
A Scotch parson preaching upon these words, "Resist the
devil, and he will fly from you," began thus:—" My beloved,
you are all here to-day, but wot ye who is among ye, even
the meikle horned devil. You cannot see him, but by the
eye of faith I see him. But some of you say, what will we
do with him now we have him here? How shall we destroy
him? We will hang him. Alas, my beloved, there are not
so many tows in the parish as will hang him, he is as light
as a feather. Then some of you will say we will drown
him. Humph, my beloved, there is owre muckle cork in
his leg, he's as souple as an eel, he will not sink. Others of
you will say, we will burn him. Na, na, sirs, you may scald
yourselves, but you canna burn him, for a' the fire in Hades
could never yet singe a hair o' his taiL Now, sirs, ye canna
find a way among you all to kill him, but I will find
it . What way will this be, sirs? We will even shoot
him. Wherewith shall we shoot him? We shall shoot
him with the Bible. Now, sirs, I shall shoot him presently.
So, presenting the Bible, as soldiers do their muskets, he
cries out, "Toot I toot! toot I Now he is shot. There
lies the foul thief as dead as a herring."
Long Credit.
Soon after the battle of Preston, two Highlanders, in roaming
through the south of Mid-Lothian, entered the farm house
of Swanston, near the Pentland Hills, where they found no
one at home but an old woman. They immediately pro-
ceeded to search the house, and soon finding a web of coarse
home-spun cloth, made no scruple to unroll and cut off as
much as they thought would make a coat to each. The
woman was exceedingly incensed at their rapacity, roared
and cried, and even had the hardihood to invoke divine


212 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
vengeance upon their heads. "Ye villains!" she cried,
"ye'll ha'e to account for this yet." "And when will we
pe account for't?" asked one of the Highlanders. "At the
last day, ye blackguards!" exclaimed the woman. "Ta
last day," replied the Highlander; "Tat be coot lang chredit
—we'll e'en pe tak a waistcoat too!" at the same time
cutting off a few additional yards of the cloth.
Bird's Nest.
The mother of a respectable grocer in a town in the west,
called her son to her, while on her death bed, and declared
to him that his reputed father was not really his father; but
that such a one (naming him) really was his father; and
that the deed was done one night when travelling from
Greenock, when at the Clun-Brae-Head. This story got
wing, and ran through the town like wildfire, and was a fine
source of amusement for some time. One day a boy vulgarly
named the "Linty," went into the said grocer's shop to pur-
chase some article, when he was assailed with " Weel Linty,
whar is'tu gaun to big thy nest the year?" The boy
replied, " I was thinkin' to big it doon about the Clun-Brae-
Head."
Elder's Hours.
A cunning carle invested with the semi-sacred office of
"Ruling Elder," or practically seemingly identified with
that office, in order to gratify an inclination, scratched wi'
the neb o' a fork the figure 10 on the one side of his outer
door, and figure 11 on the other; by which plan he was able
to say wi' "a good conscience," at a' times, and on a'
occasions, that he came aye hame atween ten and eleven.
The Thistle.
A FEW Scotch and English travellers being met together,
an Englishman took it upon him to run down the Thistle,
exclaimed against the empty boast of its motto, "Nemo me
impune lacessit," when a Scotchman present observed,


THE PENNY BUDGET OP WIT AND DROLLERY. 213
"The Thistle, sir, is the pride of the Scotish nation, but it
is nothing in the mouth of an ass."
Cold Gentleman.
In the west of Scotland, some time ago, there happened to
be an auction of books. A book-buyer who attended the
sale, was summoned by his son to supper, according to the
directions of his mother. The boy flurried by the presence
of the audience, and in his attempt to be as explicit as
possible, thus cried out, "Fayther, yer parritch is ready."
"Very well, my dear," said the father, and at the door gave
him a salute a posteriori, which was repeated with the follow-
ing injunction—" Recollect rascal, when you come again, to
say a gentleman wants me." Next evening up comes the
boy according to direction. "Is my Fayther here?" "Yes,"
said the father. "A gentleman wants ye." "Very
well, my man," was repeated by the boy's parent; but little
time elapsed when the boy returned; "What now, my
man," said the old book worm. "Oh naething," said his
son, "butgin ye dinna rin fast the gentleman will be quite
cauld."
Dougal Graham.
Dougal Graham, author of the well-known metrical history
of the rebellion in 1745, being candidate for the place of
town bell-man in the City of Glasgow, was desired to call
"Gude fresh herrings new come in at the Broomielaw." It
not being the season for herrings, Dougal added,
"But, indeed, my friends, it's a blaeflum,
For the herrings no catch'd, and the boats no come,"
which procured for Dougal the situation.
Dougal was a kind of Scotch iEsop, he had a large humph
on one of his shoulders, and like his patrotype had wit.
Calling in the street of the Gallowgate, opposite the Saracen's
Head Inn, where several officers of the gallant 42d regiment
were dining, at the close of the American war, some of whom


214 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
knew Dougal before they went abroad, opening the window,
called out, " What's that you've got on your back, Dougal?"
Knowing what the regiment suffered at Bunker's Hill,
Dougal replied, "It's Bunker's Hill; do you choose to
mount?"
A New Way to Wauken Sleepers in Church.
Mr. Ogilvie, minister of the parish of Lunan in the county
of Forfar, had a great deal of eccentricity in his composition.
One Sunday an old woman, who kept a public-house in the
parish, with whom Mr. Ogilvie was well acquainted, fell
asleep in the church during sermon—not an uncommon
occurrence. Her neighbour kept jogging in order to awake
her. Mr. Ogilvie observing this, cried out, "Let her alane,
I'll wauken her mysel', I'll warrant ye." "Phew! Phew!
(whistling) a bottle o' ale and a dram, Janet." "Comin',
sir," was instantly replied. "There now," says the minister,
"I tald ye it wadna be lang afore I waken'd her."
Sage Instruction.
A LABOURING Highlandman, who lived in the upper parts of
Perthshire, whose wife was taken in labour, wished him to
retire out of the house. Janet says to him—" Oh! you be
gang awa', Duncan, gang awa'!" The man, however, kept
loitering about the door, seemingly impressed with some-
thing of great importance. At last he cries to his wife,
"You speak a me, Shanet! you speak a me." The wife asks,
"What you say, Duncan?" "Gie the cummer (the mid-
wife) a dram, Shanet, gie the cummer a dram!" "What
for Duncan?" "Gie the cummer a dram, Shanet, an' tell
him to make her a laddie!'
The Purse and the Penny Siller.
Three young Highlanders, some years ago, set out from
their native hills, to seek a livelihood amongst their country-
men in the Lowlands. They had hardly learned any English.
One of them could say, "We three Highlandmen ;" the


216
AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
gave the following curious definition of the devil:—" The
devil, my brethren, is ill ony way ye'll tak him. Tak' the
D from his name, he's evil; tak' the E from his name, he's
vil; tak' the V from his name, he's il;" then shrugging up
his shoulders, and lengthening his sanetfied snout, he said
with peculiar emphasis, "He's naetKing but an il, vil, evil,
Devil, ony way ye'll tak' him!"
Mark me Well.
A gentleman having missed his way, fortunately met a boy
going with a pot of tar to mark his master's sheep, asked
the road to Banff, but was directing by so many turnings,
right and left, that he agreed to take the boy behind him on
the horse as he was going near to the same place. Finding
the boy pert and docile, he gave him some wholesome
advice relative to his future conduct, adding occasionally,
"Mark me well, my boy." "Yes, sir, I do." He repeated
the injunction so often, that the boy at last cried out, "Sir,
I have no more tar!"
Death of a Watch.
After the battle of Falkirk, in 1746. a Highlandman was
observed extracting a gold watch from the fob of an English
officer, who had been killed. His comrade viewed him with
a greedy eye, which the man taking notice of said to him,
"Tamn you gapin' greedy bitch, gang and shoot a shentle-
man for hersel', an' no envie me o' my pit watch.''
Next morning finding his watch motionless, and meeting
his comrade, says to him, "Och ! she no be care muckle
about a watch, an' you be like mine, what will yegi'e me for
her?" The other replied, "I be venture a kinny." "Weel
then," said the other, " Shust tak her, an' welcome, for she be
die yester night."
Our Lawful Sovereign.
An English officer dining with Lord Saltoon some years after
the Battle of Culloden, his Lordship was adverting to the


THE PENNY BUDGET OF WIT AND DROLLERY. 217
strong attachment manifested by the generality of Buchan
to the unfortunate house of Stuart, and particularly remarked
the devoted loyalty of his gardener, whom no bribe or en-
treaty could in the smallest degree influence. "I'll bet 50
guineas," said the Englishman, "that I shall make him
drink the health of King George. "Done I" replied his
Lordship. The honest gardener was called in. The officer
began by praising his fidelity and loyalty to his prince;
pressed him to drink some glasses of wine; and when he
thought him a little off his guard from the effects of the
generous liquor, he began thus :—" Now, my friend, I know
you are a good Christian and wish well to every human
being; you can certainly have no objection to drink the
health of King George? Come, my worthy fellow, a bumper
to the health of his Majesty." "Here's to the health of our
lawful Sovereign," said the gardener. "Bless you, sir,"
cried the officer, "That's not King George?" "I am very
much of your opinion," replied the man, making a profound
bow and retiring.
Down the Rotten Row.
A few years ago, when resurrectionists throughout the
country were become very common, a person of respecta-
bility was interred in the High Church burying ground of
Glasgow. The relatives who were persons of property, hired
a few hungry weavers, who generally at that time were
atomies ready made, to watch the grave of their deceased
relative; these, as they were one night on duty, perceived
some persons enter the churchyard; they kept snug till such
time as they could learn the object of their visit. It was not
long before the intruders opened a grave, took out the corpse,
put it into a sack and left it at the grave, and went in search .
of something else. One of the weavers, a droll fellow, said
to his comrade, "Take out the corpse, and I'll go into the
sack, but do you observe the proceedings." In a little time
the resurrection men returned, and one of them getting the


218 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
sack upon his back marched off. When they got to the
street, the one says to the other, "Which way will we
take?" When the weaver putting out bis hand and gripping
the fellow, who was carrying him, by the hair, bawled out,
"Down the Rotten Raw, ye beggar." He was soon set down,
and the man who carried him went mad of the fright.
Resurrection Men.
Some years ago, a poor boy, whose mother was buried in the
churchyard of Falkirk, used frequently to sit on her grave,
and when destitute of other accommodation, would crawl in
below one of the gravestones, and slept there for the night.
On one of these occasions, the boy was roused from his sleep
by the noise of some voices in the churchyard. This was
nothing more than a couple of resurrection men who had come
on purpose to begin that great work rather prematurely;
and as those who are raised before their due time cannot
be supposed capable of standing on their legs, they had pro-
vided themselves with a horse to gi'e them a lift. They
were*then disputing about how they could secure the beast,
while they were raising the corpse. The lad hearing this,
and creeping out of his hole, cries, " I'll haud him," expecting
some remuneration no doubt. The fellows seeing a resurrec-
tion commencing from under a stone, and hearing the offer of
holding the horse, scampered off and left the animal, with a
couple of sacks; and. although the horse and sacks were
advertised, they were never claimed, but sold for the benefit
of the boy, which procured him better lodging than beneath
a grave stone.
March of Intellect.
Two country carters, passing the entrance to the Arcade,
Argyle Street, Glasgow, observed painted on the wall, "No
dogs to enter here." "No dogs to enter here I" exclaimed
one of them, "I'm sure there's no use for that there." "What
way, Jock," replied the other. "'Cause dogs canna read


THE MERRY CONCEITS OF TOM LONG.
219
signs," said he. "Ha, ha, Jock, ye're maybe wrang, I'se
warran ye gentle folks' dogs 'ill ken't brawly, for there's
schools, noo, whar they learn the dumb baith to read and
speak."
THE
MERRY CONCEITS
OP
TOM LONG
THE CARRIER
Being many Pleasant Passages and Mad Pranks which
he observed in his Travels.
Full of Honest Mirth and Delight.
Of all the Toms that ever yet was named,
Was ever any Tom like Tom Long framed?
Tom Tram, who now as many mad pranks shows,
Unto Tom Long will prove a mere goose.
Tom Thumb is dumb, until the pudding creep,
In which he was entomb'd, then out doth peep;
Tom Fool may go to school, but ne'er be taught,
Such rare conceits with which Tom Long is fraught.


220 . AMUSING PROS? CHAP-BOOKS.
Tom Ass may pass, but only for his ears,
No such rich jewels as our Tom Long he wears;
Tom Tell-truth is but froth, but truth to tell,
From all these Toms, Tom Long doth bear the bell.
Chapter I.
How Tom Long at first set up the trade of being a Carrier,
and where he took up his Lodging.
Tom Long, the subject of this discourse, having spent some
few years like a wandeving Jew, oft visiting the coasts of
Essex and Kent, where he did many notable exploits, some-
times cheating the calves-heads of their money, by the
virtue of hocus pocus, having learned the art of legerdemain.
Other times he used, as opportunity served, to rob the hen-
roost. At last, his cheating tricks were so well known, that
the country kicked him out like a knave as he was, and he
was willing to be gone as they to be rid of him, soon gave
them three slips for a teaster.and travelled towards Gotham,
where he, well knowing what wit those wise men had in
their noddles, took up his abode near the place where the
men made a hedge to keep in the cuckoo all the year. Not
long after, he set up his trade of being a carrier; under
pretence of which he with ease played his pranks, and the
wisdom of these men was such, that he cheated them of all,
and yet the fools had no mistrust of him. And having set
him up, he found great store of small doings, and above all
others, the men of Gotham and Dunstable would employ him;
who, being more knave than fool, ever advised some cheat-
ing trick or other to gull those idiots; for let him. go out
ever so full, he would be sure to come home empty, telling
them one mischance or other had befallen him. He took
up his lodging at the sign of the Whip and Egg-Shell in
Thieving Lane, not far from Charing Cross, where Dunstable
men are sure to find him; if not, they may go into Turn-
again Lane, and come back again as wise as they went in.


THE MERIIY CONCEITS OF TOM LONG. 221
Chapter II.
How Tom Long the Carrier met with a Yowng Man upon
the way, with what happened to them,
and how they were entertained by an Hostess.
Tom Long being newly set up a carrier, as he was travelling
he happened to take up a young lad, who had straggled
from his parents to play the truant, which Tom perceiving,
entertained him into his service; but they had not gone far
before their stomachs were up, so they resolved at the next
place to take a bit, where, as soon as they came, they
demanded what was for to eat. The hostess, being one of
Seldom Cleanly's daughters, said there was nothing but
eggs, of which, she said, she would make them a froize; and
seeing them to come in, in a full breast and an empty
stomach, she (like a slut as she was) resolved to give them
their bellies full before they went; and so, with some three
or four good eggs, she mixed as many bad ones, some addle
and rotten, and others ready for to hatch; and having set
them down at a certain wash block, which served instead of
a table, she set before them as good a froize as any woman
possibly could make of coarse materials, making her sauce
alike suitable, being nothing else but kitchen stuff melted a
little—oil as good as ever was burned. Tom and the young
man fell presently to it, with stomachs as greedy as hogs,
swallowing down all by wholesale, tag-rag and long-tail,
without any chewing, although they conceited something
cracking in their teeth like young bones. Yet hunger,
which is the best sauce, made every morsel sweet, although
it had but an ill going down with it, and worse troubled
their patience afterwards, for they had no sooner eaten of it,
but like squeezy stomachs they began to cast backwards
and forwards; and being in this pitiful pickle, they called
for their hostess, who, thinking to receive her reckoning,
was paid in her own coin; for, having some of their froize
left, Tom furiously cast it on her face, which stuck as fast
15


222 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
as a plaister to the wall, insomuch that for a while she Inst
her eyesight; which being done, Tom departed without
paying anything for his dinner.
Chapter III.
How Tom and his Young Man discoursed of their Dinner,
and how they resolved to mend the matter at night,
but met with as bad Entertainment.
Tom and his man being now on their way, began to discourse
of their dinner, and how prettily they served their hostess;
but still conceited that they heard these young chickens
which they had eaten in their froize cry, " Peep, peep, peep,"
and having cast up all again, their bellies began to cry
"Cupboard," whereupon Tom, to comfort his young man,
told him they would be sure to have a good host at night,
and good fare to. But " like to like," quoth the devil to the
collier, out of the frying-pan into the fire; for their new
host proved not only a knave, but a thief, and instead of
dainty veal, provided for them part of a 3'oung colt, which,
being foaled before its time, ate very tenderly; and going
to supper, the host, like a nattering knave, told them he
would feast them bravely; and they, not mistrusting any-
thing, fed most courageously, having for to please their
pallets several kinds of dishes made thereof, the host still
crying, "You are welcome, gentlemen,"—all which they
swallowed down as greedily as the lawyer his fee. And
having filled their ungodly guts with this supposed good
cheer, they hastened to bed, where the fleas fed as fast on
their corpse as they had done upon this new found veal,
insomuch that they looked as if they had the smallpox. In
the morning (thinking to have breakfast of the same) they
missed their coats and other things, which their host-had
thievishly deprived them of. So, searching the house about,
they found hanging in a corner some pieces of flesh, which
they supposed to be part of the veal they had eaten of; but
by the ears of the skin which hanged by, they saw plainly


224 AMUSINO PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
by reason they sent by Tom Long the Carrier, they could
never receive any answer about what he brought. Also, all
the broken shopkeepers and decayed gentlemen sent their
creditors' debts by Tom Long the Carrier.
But it happened that, as Tom was going to London, he
chanced to be at Huntingdon, where, putting his horses to
grass, amongst which he had a young ragged colt,—this colt
having straggled down into the river, certain wise men of
the town coming by, that had been at Gotham, thought it
had been a sturgeon, and thereupon acquainted the Right
Wisdom-Fool the Mayor of it, who assembled together his
wise brethren, made a very wise speech to them, and ac-
quainted them therewith, who very unanimously accom-
panied his foolship; and, after a deep consultation, they all
agreed to seize the poor colt for a sturgeon; but carrying it
with great triumph into the town, the inhabitants, who
were wiser than the rest, exceedingly laughed them to scorn
for their great folly. And so Tom, promising the Mayor to
bring him a piece of sturgeon at his return, he had his colt
again.
Chapter VI.
A Story of the Seven Sleepers, ivho slept above three
hundred years, and not yet awakened.
In a great city there lived several men who for their religion
were forced to fly for their lives, and not far from the city
was an ancient cave under a hill, in which these men entered
to seeure and refresh themselves; but their persecutors,
hearing where they were, stopped up the mouth of the cave,
intending to famish them therein; and they, not knowing
what was done, so soon as they had refreshed their bodies
with victuals, laid themselves down to sleep, and so con-
tinued sleeping very sound a long season, until such time as
in .after ages a shepherd, intending to make himself a har-
bour, set divers masons to work to dig in this cave, who,
with the noise, awakened the men who had been asleep so


226 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Chapter VIII.
How Tom Long the Carrier converted all hie Carriage to
kin own use, and tltereby recruited himself with another
Horse, and of a sad mischance tfiat befel his Horse.
Tom Long the Carrier, seeing himself thus fooled out of his
horse, resolved not to bear all the loss himself, and so con-
verted all his carriage into money, and returning home,
pretended he had been robbed of his horse and all his car-
riage. Not long after, Tom being willing to set up again,
purchased with his money a new horse; but ill-gotten goods
seldom thrive. So Tom, having a horse again, received
divers things to carry from divers places, especially from
the wise men of Gotam, who were the best customers Tom
Long the Carrier had. But being on his way not far from
his inn, he chanced to spy a fine plot of grass under a hedge
in a corn field, under which Tom, to save charges, secretly
conveyed his mare, tying her to the hedge with a cord, and
so left her. But the mare, like an unruly jade, not being
willing to be confined in so narrow a compass, was minded
to see what fare was on the other side of the hedge, and
foolishly venturing to leap over, very unfortunately hanged
herself, whose untimely death had then nigh broke the heart
of poor Tom Long; and his grief was the more by reason
she died without any visitation.
Tom nine ways looks, and needs must vexed be;
Now bought wit's best, Tom Long doth plainly see.
Tom tells he's robbed, and counteth all his losses,
And is in hopes he shall have no more crosses.
"Come, lads, all's gone," Tom takes his comfort then;
Ho will be repaid by other men.
Now many men do Tom Long dispraise,
Saying, " He has small conscience in his ways,
But sure I'll lay no such fault to his charge;
I rather think his conscience was too large."


THE MERRY CONCEITS OF TOM LONG. 227
Chapter IX.
How Tom Long the Carrier was assaulted by a Dog, and
how valiantly he defended himself, and killed, him.
As Tom Long the Carrier was travelling between Dover
and Westchester, he fortuned to pass something near a
house, where was kept a great mastiff dog, who, as soon as
he had espied Tom, came running open mouthed at him,
and so furiously assaulted him, as if he meant to devour
him at a bite. But Tom, having in his hand a good pike-
staff, most valiantly defended himself like a man, and to
withstand the danger, he thrust the pike-end of his staff
into his throat, and so killed him. Whereupon the owner
thereof, seeing his dog lost, comes earnestly unto Tom; and
between threatening and chiding, asking him why he struck
him not with the great end of the staff? "Marry," quoth
he, " because your dog runs not at me with his tail."
Chapter X.
Of a merry conceited Jest brought to Town by Tom.
A certain king kept a fool to be his jester, whose manner
was to set down in a note-book, which he kept for that
purpose, all the follies that he saw committed in or about
the court, or at least write so many as he discovered. So,
upon a time, a certain Italian horse-courser arrived at the
court who professed great skill in horsemanship, and it
being declared unto the king, he presently sent him with
three thousand pounds to buy horses in a far country, which
this fool hearing of, put down in his note-book among the
rest. When the king heard that, he was much offended,
and would needs know of Jack Lackwit why ho had set
him down in his note. "Because," quoth the fool, " I think
he will come no more to you." "But what if he does como
again?" said the king. "Why, then," said the fool, " I will
take you out and put him in."


228 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Chapter XI.
Of the Hard Lodging which Tom Long the Carrier found on
the Ground, having under him but one Poor Feather.
Tom Long, by reason of the great loss of his horses, became
very poor, and so turned fooUpost; and being in a weari-
some condition, he was forced, having not coin to pay for
better, to take up his lodging on the ground, where, tum-
bling and tossing, he could hardly rest all night; and stirring
himself betimes in the morning, he espied under him one
feather. "Now," quoth Tom, " I see what was the cause of
my trouble that I could not sleep all the night . I wonder,
seeing I found such hard lodging upon one feather, how they
do that lie upon thousands."
Chapter XII.
How Tom Long cozened two Shoemakers out of a
pair of Shoes.
Tom Long being now a foot-post, with hard travelling had
worn his shoes so very thin that he was in great danger to
lose soles and all; whereupon Tom came to refresh himself,
after which he sent for a shoemaker to bring him a pair of
shoes.
Now Tom, having no coin left, resolved to try his wits;
so drawing on one of the shoes, he said it fitted well; but
drawing on the other, he complained that it pinched his
foot and was too low in the instep; whereupon he desired
the shoemaker to take that shoe home and let it stand in
the last for an hour or two, and he would stay so long. As
soon as he was gone Tom pulled off the other shoe, and sent
for another shoemaker to bring him a pair of shoes, which
he did; so, drawing on one of them on the other foot, he
said it pinched him likewise, and so wished him also to
take that shoe home, and let it stand for an hour on the
last, and then come again. But the shoemakers saw the


THE MERRY CONCEITS OF TOM LONG. 229
last of their shoes, for when they came again Tom Long was
gone, leaving these verses behind them :—
"Whom seek ye, sirs—Tom Long? Oh, fie upon
Your tediousness, he's long since gone;
. He went a good while since, no question store
Are glad, who vex'd he did not go before;
And some are griev'd he went so soon away,
The reason was, he could no longer stay;
Nor is it a wonder that he thus is gone,
Since all men know he long was drawing on."
Chapter XIII.
Witty Conceits of Tom Long the Carrier.
Tom Long the Carrier, upon a time, asked a merry conceited
fellow which was the best husband for a young wench to
marry. "Marry," quoth the fellow, "an old man, for then
he shall be sure to be proud of her." Another standing
by asked Tom Long the Carrier what trade he thought \o
be best? "Marry," quoth Tom, "a cut-purse; for he hnth
no sooner done his work but he hath his money in his
hand."
Chapter XIV.
The Conclusion of the Merry Conceits of Tom Long
the Carrier.
Tom Long the Carrier coming to an inn,
Asked the maid what meat there was within?
"Cow-heels," said she, "and a fine breast of mutton."
"Then," said Tom, "since that I am no glutton,
Either or both shall serve—to-night the breast,
The heels in the morning, when light meat is best."
At night he took the breast, and did not pay,
And in the morning took his heels and ran away.
When the worst is past, all things begin to mend,
And here the brave story of Tom Long doth end.


230 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
THE
STORY OF
BLUE BEARD
OK THE
EFFECTS OF FEMALE CURIOSITY.
There was, some time ago, a gentleman who was extremely
rich. He had elegant town and country houses; his dishes
and plates were of gold and silver; his rooms were hung
with damask; his chairs and sofas were covered with the
richest silks, and his carriages were all magnificently gilt
with gold.
But, unfortunately, this gentleman had a blue beard,
which made him so very frightful and ugly that none of the
ladies in the neighbourhood would venture to go into his
company.
It happened that a lady of quality, who lived very near
him, had two daughters, who were both extremely beautiful.
Blue Beard asked her to bestow one of them upon him in
marriage, leaving to herself the choice which of the two it
should be.
They both, however, again and again refused to marry
Blue Beard; but, to be as civil as possible, they each pre-
tended that they refused because she would not deprive her
sister of the opportunity of marrying so much to her advan-
tage. But the truth was they could not bear the thoughts
of having a husband with a blue beard, and, besides, they
had heard of his having already been married to several
wives, and nobody could tell what had afterwards become
of them.


*>:i,-->.
AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
She promised to obey his orders in the most faithful
manner; and Blue Beard, after tenderly embracing her,
stepped into his carriage and drove away.
The friends of the bride did not, on this occasion, wait
to be invited, so impatient were they to see all the riches
and magnificence she had gained by marriage; for they had
been prevented from paying their wedding visit by their
aversion to the blue beard of the bridegroom.
Nosooner were theyarrived than they impatiently ran from
room to room, from cabinet to cabinet, and then from ward-
robe to wardrobe, examining each with the utmost curiosity,
and declaring that the last was still richer and more beauti-
ful than what they had seen the moment before. At length
they came to the drawing-rooms, where their admiration and
astonishment were still increased by the costly splendour of
the hangings, of the sofas, the chairs,' carpets, tables, giran-
doles, and looking-glasses, the frames of which were silver
gilt, most richly ornamented, and in which they saw them-
selves from head to foot.
In short, nothing could exceed the magnificence of what
they saw; and the visitors did not cease to extol and envy
the good fortune of their friend, who all this time was far
from being amused by the fine compliments they paid her,
so eagerly did she desire to see what was in the closet her
husband had forbidden her to open. So great indeed was
her curiosity that, without recollecting how uncivil it would
be to leave her guests, she descended a private staircase that
led to it, and in such a hurry that she was two or three times
in danger of breaking her neck.
When she reached the door of the closet she stopped for
a few moments to think of the charge her husband had
given her, and that he would not fail to keep his word in
punishing her very severely should she disobey him. But
she was so very curious to know what was in the inside
that she determined to venture in spite of everything.


THE STORY OF BLUE BEARD. 233
She accordingly, with a trembliug hand, put the key into
the lock, and the door immediately opened. The window
shutters being closed, she at first saw nothing; but in a
short time she perceived that the floor was covered with
clotted blood, on which the bodies of several dead women
were lying. These were all the wives whom Blue Beard
had married and murdered, one after another. She was
ready to sink with fear, and the key of the closet door,
which she held in her hand, fell on the floor. When she had
somewhat recovered from her fright she took it.up, locked
the door, and hastened to her own room that she might have
a little time to get into humour for amusing her visitors;
but this she found impossible, so greatly was she terrified
by what she had seen.
As she observed that the key of the closet had got stained
with blood in falling on the floor, she wiped it two or three
times over to clean it; still, however, the blood remained
the same as before. She next washed it, but the blood did
not stir at all; she then scoured it with brickdust, and
afterwards with sand, but notwithstanding all she could do,
the blood was still there; for the key was a fairy, who was
Blue Beard's friend, so that as fast as she got it off on one
side it appeared again on the other.
Early in the evening Blue Beard returned home, saying he
had not proceeded far on his journey before he was met by
a messenger who was coming to tell him that his business
was happily concluded without his being present, upon
which his wife said everything she could think of to make
him believe she was transported with joy at his unexpected
return.
The next morning he asked her for the keys. She gave
them to him; but as she could not help showing her fright,
BlueBear d easily guessed what had happened. "How is
it," said he, "that the key of the closet upon the ground
floor is not here?" "Is it not ? then I must have left it on


234 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
my dressing-table," said she, and left the room in tears.
"Be sure you give it me by-and-bye," cried Blue Beard.
After going several times backwards and forwards, pre-
tending to look for the key, she was at last obliged to give
it to Blue Beard. He looked at it attentively, and then
said—" How came the blood upon the key 1" "I am sure
I do not know," replied the lady, turning at the same time
as pale as death. "You do not know," said Blue Beard
sternly; "but I know well enough. You have been in the
closet on the ground floor. Vastly well, madam; since you
are so mightily fond of this closet, yon shall certainly take
your place among the ladies you saw there."
His wife, almost dead with fear, fell upon her knees, asked
his pardon a thousand times for her disobedience, and
entreated him to forgive her—looking all the time so very
sorrowful and lovely that she would have melted any heart
that was not harder than a rock.
But Blue Beard answered, "No, no, madam; you shall
die this very minute!"
"Alas!" said the poor trembling creature, "if I must die,
allow me, at least, a little time to say my prayers."
"I give you," replied the cruel Blue Beard, "half a
quarter of an hour; not one moment longer."
When Blue Beard had left her to herself, she called her
sister, and after telling her, as well as she could for sobbing,
that she had but half a quarter of an hour to live, "Prithee,"
said she, " sister Ann" (this was her sister's name), " run up
to the top of the tower, and see if my brothers are yet in sight,
for they promised to come and visit me to-day ; and if you see
them, make a sign for them to gallop as fast as possible."
Her sister instantly did as she was desired, and the terri-
fied lady every minute called out to her, "Ann ! sister Ann!
do you see any one coming?" and her sister answered, "I
see nothing but the sun, which makes a dust, and the grass,
which looks green.


THE STORY OF BLUE BEARD. 235
In the meanwhile Blue Beard, with a great scimitar in
his hand, bawled as loud as he could to his wife, "Come
down instantly, or I will fetch you."
"One moment longer, I beseech you," replied she; and
again called softly to her sister—" Sister Ann, do you see
any one coming?" To which she answered, "I see nothing but
the sun, which makes a dust,and the grass, which looks green."
Blue Beard now again bawled out, "Come down, I say,
this very moment, or I shall come and fetch you."
"I am coming; indeed I will come in one minute," sobbed
his unhappy wife. Then she once more cried out—"Ann!
sister Ann! do you see any one coming?" "I see," said
her sister, "a cloud of dust a little to the left." "Do you
think it is my brothers?" continued the wife. "Alas! no,
dear sister," replied she; " it is only a flock of sheep."
"Will you come down or not, madam ?" said Blue Beard,
in the greatest rage imaginable.
"Only one single moment more," answered she. And
then she called out for the last time—" Sister.Ann! do you
see any one coming?"
"I see," replied her sister, "two men on horseback coming
to the house, but they are still at a great distance."
"God be praised!" cried she; it is my brothers; give
them a sign to make what haste they can.
At the same moment Blue Beard cried out so loud for her
to come down that his voice shook the whole house.
The poor lady with her hair loose, and her eyes swimming
in tears, instantly came down, and fell on her knees to Blue
Beard, and was going to beg him to spare her life; but he
interrupted her saying—" All this is of no use at all, for
you shall die." Then, seizing her with one hand by the
hair, and raising the scimitar he held in the other, was going
with one blow to strike off her head.
The unfortunate creature turning towards him, desired to
have a single moment allowed her to recollect herself.


THE LIFE OF MANSIE WAUCH. 237
was it spoken about that something mysterious would
happen on that dreary night, as the cat, after washing her
face, gaed mewing about with her tail sweeing behind her
like a ramrod; and a corbie, from the Duke's woods, tumbled
down Jamie Elder's lum when he had set the little still a-
going—giving them a terrible fright, as they took it for the
deevil and then for an exciseman—and fell with a great
cloud of soot and a loud skraigh into the empty kail-pot.
The first thing that I have any clear memory of was my
being carried out on my auntie's shoulder, with a leather
cap tied under my chin, to see the Fair Race. Oh I but it
was a grand sight! I have read since then the story of
Aladdin's Wonderful Lamp, but this beat it all to sticks.
There was a long row of tables, covered with carpets of
bonny patterns, heaped from one end to the other with shoes
of every kind and size, some with polished soles and some
glittering with sparables and cuddyheels, and little red
worsted boots for bairns with blue and white edgings,
hinging like strings of flowers up the posts at each end ; and
then what a collection of luggies! The whole meal in the
market sacks on a Thursday did not seem able to fill them,
and horn spoons, green and black freckled, with shanks clear
as amber, and timber caups, and ivory egg cups of every
pattern. Have a care of us! all the eggs in Smeaton dairy
might have found resting places for their seats in a row.
As for the gingerbread, I shall not attempt a description.
Sixpenny and shilling cakes, in paper tied with skinie, and
roundabouts, and snaps, brown and white quality, and par-
liaments on stands covered with calendered linen clean from
the fold. To pass it was just impossible; it set my teeth a-
watering, and I skirled like mad until I had a gilded lady
thrust into my little nieve—the which, after admiring for a
minute, I applied my teeth to and of the head I made no
bones, so that in less than no timo she had vanished, petti-
coats and all, no trace of her being to the fore save and
16


THE LIFE OF MANSIE WAUCH. 239
ing in the stirrups, the long stick between his teeth, and
his white hair fleeing behind him in the wind like streamers
on a frosty night.
CALF-LOVE.
Just after I was put to my apprenticeship, having made
free choice of the tailoring trade, I had a terrible stound of
calf-love. Never shall I forget it. I was growing up long
and lank as a willow-wand, brawns to my legs there were
none, as my trousers of other years too visibly effected to
show. The long yellow hair hung down, like a flax-wig, the
length of my lantern jaws, which looked, notwithstanding
my yapness and stiff appetite, as if eating and they had
broken up acquaintanceship. My blue jacket seemed in the
sleeves to have picket a quarrel with the wrists and had
retreated to a tait below the elbows. The haunch-buttons,
on the contrary, appeared to have taken a strong liking to the
shoulders, a little below which they showed their tarnished
brightness. At the middle of the back the tails terminated,
leaving the well-worn rear of my corduroys like a full moon
seen through a dark haze. Oh! but I must have been a
bonny lad.
My first flame was the, minister's lassie, Jess, a buxom and
forward queen, two or three years older than myself. I
used to sit looking at her in the kirk, and felt a droll con-
fusion when our een met. It dirled through my heart like
a dart, and I looked down at my psalm-book sheepish and
blushing. Fain would I have spoken to her, but it would
not do; my courage aye failed me at the pinch, though she
whiles gave me a smile when she passed me. She used to
go to the well every night with her twa stoups to draw
water after the manner of the Israelites at gloaming, so I
thought of watching to give her the two apples which I had
carried in my pouch for more than a week for that purpose.
How she laughed when I stappit them into her hand and
.brushed by without speaking. I stood at the bottom of the


240 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
close listening, and heard her laughing till she was like to
split . My heart flap flappit in my breast like a pair of fan-
ners. It was a moment of heavenly hope ; but I saw Jamie
Coom, the blacksmith, who I aye jaloused was my rival,
coming down to the well. I saw her give him one of the
apples, and hearing him say with a loud gaffaw, "Where is
the tailor?" I took to my heels, and never stopped till I
found myself on the little stool by the fireside, and the
hamely sound of my mother's wheel bum-bumming in my
lug like a gentle lullaby.
Every noise I heard flustered me, but I calmed in time,
though I went to my bed without my supper. When I was
driving out the gaislings to the grass on the next morn who
was it my ill fate to meet but the blacksmith. "Ou,
Mansie," said Jamie Coom, "are ye gaun to take me for
your best man? I hear you are to be cried in the kirk on
Sundaj'."
"Me !" answered I, shaking and staring.
"Yes," said he; "Jess, the minister's maid, told me last
night that you had been giving up your name at the manse.
Ay, it's ower true, for she showed me the apples ye gied her
in a present. This is a bonny story, Mansie, my man, and
you only at your apprenticeship yet."
Terror and despair had struck me dumb. I stood as still
and as stiff as a web of buckram. My tongue was tied, and
I couldna contradict him. Jamie faulded his arms and gaed
away whistling, turning every now and then his sooty face
over his shoulder and mostly sticking his tune, as he could
not keep his mouth screwed for laughing. What would I
not have given to have laughed too!
There was no time to be lost; this was the Saturday.
The next rising sun would shine on the Sabbath. Ah, what
a case I was in; I could mostly have drowned myself had I
not been frighted. What could I. do? My love had
vanished like lightning; but oh, I was in a terrible gliff!


THE LIFE OF MANSIE WAUCH. 241
Instead of gundy, I sold my thrums to Mrs. Walnut for a
penny, with which I bought at the counter a sheet of paper
and a pen, so that in the afternoon I wrote out a letter to
the minister telling him what I had been given to hear, and
begging him, for the sake of mercy, not to believe Jess's
word, as I was not able to keep a wife, and as she was a
leeing gipsy.
PUSHING MT FORTUNE.
The days of the years of my apprenticeship having glided
cannily over on the working board of my respected maister,
James Hosey, where I sat working cross-legged like a busy
bee in the true spirit of industrious contentment, I found
m3'self at the end of the seven year so well instructed in the
tailoring trade, to which I had paid a near-sighted attention,
that, without more ado, I girt myself round about with a
proud determination of at once cutting my mother's apron
string and venturing to go without a hold. Thinks I to
myself " faint heart never won fair lady," so, taking my stick
in my hand, I set out towards Edinburgh as brave as a
Hielander in search of a journeyman's place. I may set it
down to an especial providence that I found one, on the very
first day, to my heart's content in by at the Grassmarkit
where I stayed for the space of six calendar months.
Had it not been from a real sense of the duty I owed (o
my future employers, whomsoever they might be, in makirg
myself a first-rate hand in the cutting, shaping, and sewing
line, I would not have found courage in my breast to have
helped me out through such a long and dreary time.
Never let us repine, howsomever, but consider that all is
ordered for the best. The sons of the patriarch Jacob found
out their brother Joseph in a foreign land, and where they
least expected it, so it was here—even here where my heart
was sickening unto death, from my daily and nightly
thoughts being as bitter as gall—that I fell in with the
greatest blessing of my life, Nanse Cromie!


242 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
In the flat below our workshop lived Mrs. Whitterraick,
the wife of Mr. Whitterraick, a dealer in hens and hams in
the poultry market, who, coming from the Lauder neigh-
bourhood, had hired a bit wench of a lassie that was to
follow them come the term. And who think ye should this
lassie be but Nanso Cromie, afterwards, in the course of a
kind providence, the honoured wife of my bosom, and the
mother of bonny Benjie.
In going up and down the stairs—it being a common
entry, ye observe—me may be going down with my every-
day hat on to my dinner, and she coming up carrying a
stoup of water or half-a-pound of pouthered butter on a
plate, with a piece of paper thrown over it—we frequently
met half-way, and had to stand still to let one another pass.
Nothing came of these forgetherings, howsomever, for a
month or two, she being as shy and modest as she was bonny,
with her clean demity short gown and snow-white morning
mutch, to say nothing of her cherry mou, and me unco
douffie in making up to strangers. We could not help,
nevertheless, to take aye a stoun look of each other in pass-
ing, and I was a gone man, bewitched out of my seven
senses, falling from my claes, losing my stomach, and over
the lugs in love, three weeks and some odd days before ever
a single syllable passed between us.
If ever a man loved, and loved like mad, it was me,
Mansie Wauch, and I take no shame in the confession; but,
kenning it all in the course of nature, declared it openly and
courageously in the face of the wide world. Let them laugh
who like; honest folk, I pity them. Such know not the
pleasures of virtuous affection. It is not in corrupted, sin-
ful hearts that the fire of true love can ever burn clear.
Alas, and ohon orie! They lose the sweetest, completest,
dearest, truest pleasure that this world has in store for its
children. They know not the bliss to meet that makes the
embrace of separation bitter. They never dreamed the


THE LIFE OF MANSIE WAUCH. 243
dreams that make awakening to the morning light un-
pleasant. They never felt the raptures that can dirl like
darts through a man's soul from a woman's e'e. They never
tasted the honey that dwells on a woman's lip, sweeter than
yellow marigolds to the bee; or fretted nnder the fever of
bliss that glows through the frame on pressing the hand of
a suddenly met and fluttering sweetheart. But tuts-tuts—
hech-how ! my day has long since passed; and this is stuff
to drop from the lips of an auld fool. Nevertheless, forgive
rue, friends; I cannot help all-powerful nature.
Nanse's taste being like my own, we amused one another
in abusing great cities, and it is curious how soon I learned
to be up to trap—I mean in an honest way; for when she
said she was wearying the very heart out of her to be home
again to Lauder, which, she said, was her native and the
true land of Goshen, I spoke back to her by way of answer—
"Nancy, my dear," says I, " believe me that the real land of
Goshen is out at Dalkeith, and if ye'll take up house wi' me,
and enter into a way of doing, I daursay in a. while ye'll
come to think so too."
What will you say there? Matters were by-and-bye
settled full tosh between us, and though the means of both
parties were small, we were young and able and willing to
help one another. For two three days, I must confess, after
Nanse and me found ourselves in the comfortable situation
of man and wife I was a dowie and desponding, thinking we
were to have a numerous small family and where work was
to come from; but no sooner was my sign nailed up with
four iron haudfasts by Johnny Hammer, painted in black
letters on a blue ground, with a picture of a jacket on one
side and a pair of shears on the other, and my shop door
opened to tho public with a wheen ready-made waistcoats,
gallowses, leather caps, and Kilmarnock cowls, hung up at
the window, than business flowed in upon us in a perfect
torrent. First one came in for his measure and then another.


244 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
A wife came in for a pair of red worsted boots for her bairn,
but would not take them for they had not blue fringes. A
bare-headed lassie, hoping to be hansel, threw down two-
pence and asked tape at three yards a halfpenny. The
minister sent an old black coat beneath his maid's arm,
preened up in a towel, to get docked in the tails down into
a jacket, which I trust I did to his entire satisfaction,
making it fit to a hair. The duke's butler himself patro-
nized me by sending me a coat which was all hair powder
and pomate to get a new neck put to it.
No wonder than we attracted customers, for our sign was
the prettiest ye ever saw, though the jacket was not just so
neatly painted as for some sand-blind creatures not to take
it for a goose. I daresay there were fifty half-naked bairns
glowering their een out of their heads at it from morning
till night, and after they all were gone to their beds both
Nanse and me found ourselves so proud of our new situation
in life that we slipped out in the dark by ourselves and had
a prime look at it with a lantern.
MANSIE WAUCH'S FIRST AND LAST PLAY.
Mony a time and often had I heard of play-acting and
of players making themselves kings and queens, and saying
a great many wonderful things, but I,had never before an
opportunity of making myself a witness to the truth of these
hearsays. So Maister Glen, being as fu' of nonsense and as
fain to have his curiosity gratified, we took upon us the stout
resolution to gang ower thegither, he offering to treat me and
I determined to run the risk of Maister Wiggie, our minister's
rebuke, for the transgression, hoping it would make na
lasting impression on his mind, being for the first and only
time. Folks shouldna at a' times be ower scrupulous.
After paying our money at the door, never, while I live
and breathe, will I forget what we saw and heard that night.
It just looks to me by a' the world, when I think on't, like
a fairy dream. The place was crowded to the e'e, Maister


246 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
heaven and yearth to help him to find out his runawa'
daughter that had decampit wi' some ne'er-do-well loon of a
half-pay captain that keppit her in his arms frae her bed-
room window up twa pair o' stairs. Every father and head
of a family maun ha'e felt for a man in his situation thus
to be rubbit of his dear bairn, and an only daughter, too, as he
telt us ower and ower again, as the saut, saut tears ran
gushing down his withered face, and he aye blew his nose on
his clean calendered pocket napkin. But, ye ken, the thing
was absurd to suppose that we should ken onything about
the matter, having never seen either him or his daughter
between the een afore, and no kenning them by head mark;
so, though we sympathized with him, as folks ought to do
with a fellow-creature in affliction, we thought it best to
haud our tongues to see what might cast up better than he
expected. So out he gaed stamping at the ither side, deter-
mined, he said, to find them out though he should follow
them to the world's end, Johnny Groat's House, or some-
thing to that effect.
Hardly was his back turned, and amaist before ye could
cry Jack Robison, in comes the birkie and the very young
leddy the auld gentleman described arm and arm thegither,
smoodging and lauching like daft. Dog on it, it was a
shameless piece of business. As true as death, before all the
crowd of folk he pat his arm round her waist and ca'ed her
his sweetheart, and love, and dearie, and darling, and every-
thing that is sweet. If they had been courting in a close
thegither on a Friday night they couldna ha'e said mair to
ane anither, or gaen greater lengths. I thought sic shame
to be an e'e-witness to sic ongoings that I was obliged at
last to haud up my hat afore my face and look down, though,
for a' that, the young lad, to be sic a blackguard as his con-
duct showed, was weel enough faured and had a guid coat
on his back wi' double gilt buttons and fashionable lapels,
to say little o' a very weel-made pair of buckskins a little


THE LIKK OK MANSIE WAUCII. 247
the waur o' the wear, to be sure, but which, if they had been"
cleaned, would ha'e looked amaist as good as new. How
they had come we never could learn, as we neither saw
chaise nor gig; but, from his having spurs on his boots, it is
uiair than likely that they had lighted at the back door of
the barn frae a horse, she riding on a pad behint him, maybe
with her hand round his waist. r
The faither lookit to be a rich auld bool, baith from his
manner of speaking and the rewards he seemed to offer for
the appreheusion of his daughter; but, to be sure, when so
many of us were present that had an equal right to the
spulzie it wadna be a great deal a thousand pounds when
divided, still it was worth the looking after. So we just
bidit a wee.
Things were brought to a bearing, whosoever, sooner than
either themsel's, I daursay, or onybody else present seemed
to ha'e the least glimpse of; for just in the middle of their
fine going on the sound of a coming fit was heard, and the
lassie, taking guilt to her, cried out, "Hide me, hide me, for
the sake of gudeness, for yonder comes my old father!"
Nae sooner said than done. In he stappit her into a
closet, and, after shutting the door on her, he sat down upon
a chair, pretending to be asleep in a moment. The auld
faither came bouncing in, and seeing the fellow as sound as
a tap he ran forrit and gaed him sich a shake as if he wad
ha'e shooken him a' sundry, which sune made him open his
een as fast as he had steekit them. After blackguarding the
chiel at no allowance, cursing him up hill and down dale,
and ca'ing him every name but a gentleman, he haddit his
staff ower his crown and, gripping him by the cuff o' the
neck, askit him what he had made o' his daughter. Never
since I was born did I ever see sic brazen-faced impudence!
The rascal had the brass to say at ance that he hadna seen
word or wittens o' his daughter for a month, though mair
than a hundred folk sitting in his company had seen him


248 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
dauting her with his arm round her jimpy waist not five
minutes before. As a man, as a father, as an elder of our
kirk, my corruption was raised, for I aye hated leeing as a
puir cowardly sin and an inbreak on the ten commandments,
and I fand my neebour, Mr. Glen, fidgetting on the seat as
weel as me, so I thocht that whaever spoke first wad ha'e
the best right to be entitled to the reward; whereupon, just
as he was in the act of rising up, I took the word out of his
mouth, saying, "Dinna believe him, auld gentleman, dinna
believe him, friend; he's telling a parcel of lees. Never saw
her for a month! It's no worth arguing or ca'ing wit-
nesses; just open that press door and ye'll see whether
I'm speaking truth or no."
The auld man stared and lookit dumbfoundered, and
the young man, instead of rinning forrit wi' his double
nieves to strike me, the only thing I was feared for, began
a-laughing, as if I had dune him a good turn. But never
since I had a being did I ever witness an uproar and noise
as immediately took place. The haill house was sae glad
that the scoundrel had been exposed that they set up siccau
a roar o' lauchter and thumpit away at siccan a rate at the
boards wi' their feet that, at lang and last, wi' pushing and
fidgetting and hadding their sides, down fell the place they
ca' the gallery, a' the folk in't being hurled tapsy-turvy head
foremost amang the saw-dust on the floor below, their guf-
fawing sune being turned to howling, ilka ane crying louder
than anither at the tap of their voices, " Murder! murder!
haud off me; murder! my ribs are in; murder! I'm killed
—I'm speechless!" and ither lamentations to that effect; so
that a rush to the door took place, in which everything was
overturned—the door-keeper being wheeled away like wild-
fire, the furms strampit to pieces, the lights knockit out, and
the twa blind fiddlers dung head foremost ower the stage,-
the bass fiddle cracking like thunder at every bruise. Siccan
tearing, and swearing, and tumbling, and squeeling was


THE LIFE OF HANSIE WAUCH. . 249
never wituessed in the memory of man sin' the building of
Babel, legs being likely to be broken, sides staved in, een
knocked out, and lives lost—there being only ae door, and
that a sma' ane—so that when we had been carried off our
feet that length my wind was fairly gane, and a sick dwam
cam' ower me, lights of a' manner of colours, red, blue, green,
and orange dancing before me that entirely deprived me o
common sense till, on opening my een in the dark, I fand
myael' leaning wi' my braid side against the wa' on the
opposite side of the close. It was some time before I mindit
what had happened, so, dreading scaith, I fand first the ae
arm and then the ither to see if they were broken, syne my
head, and syne baith o' my legs; but a', as weel as I could
discover, was skinhale and scart free—on perceiving which,
my joy was without bounds, having a great notion that I
had been killed on the spot. So I reached round my hand
very thankfully to tak' out my pocket napkin to gi'e my
brow a wipe when, lo and behold, the tail of my Sunday's
coat was fairly aff and away, dockit by the haunch buttons.
PHILISTINE IN THE COAL-HOLE.
It was about the month of March, in the j'ear of grace
anno domini eighteen hunder, that the haill country trum-
melled, like a man ill of the interminable fiver, under the
consternation of Bonapartie and all the French vagabonds
emigrating ower and landing in the firth. Keep us a'! the
folk, dydit bodies, pat less confidence than became them in
what our volunteer regiments were able and willing to do
though we had a remnant amang us of the true bluid that
with loud lauchter lauched the creatures to scorn, and I for
ane keepit up my pluck like a true Hielander. Does ony
leeving soul believe that Scotland could be conquered, and
the like o' us sold, like Egyptian slaves, into captivity?
Fie, fie; I could spit on siccan havers. Are we no
descended, faither and son, frae Robert Bruce and Sir
William Wallace, having the bright bluid of freemen in our


250 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
veins and the Pentland Hills, as weel as our ain dear hames
and firesides, to fight for? The fief that wadnn gi'e cut-aud-
thrust for his country as lang as he had a breath to draw or
a leg to stand on should be tied neck and heels, without
benefit o' clergy, and thrown ower Leith Pier to swim for
his life like a mangy dog!
It was sometime in the blasty month of March, the
weather being rawish and rainy, wi' sharp frosty nights that
left all the window soles whitewashed ower with frost-rind
in the morning, that as I was going out in the dark, afore
lying doun in my bed, to gi'e a look into the hen-house door
and lock the coal cellar, so that I might pit the bit key intil
my breek pouches, I happened to gi'e a keek in, and, lo and
behold, the awfu' apparition of a man wi' a yellow jacket
lying sound asleep on a great lump o' parrot coal in a
corner.
In the hurry of my terror and surprise at seeing a man
with a yellow jacket and a blue foraging cap in such a situa-
tion, I was like to drap the guid twopenny candle and faint
clean away; but, coming to mysel' in a jiffy, I determined,
in case it might be a highway rubber, to thraw about the
key, and, rinning up for the firelock, shoot him through the
head instantly, if found necessary. In turning round the
key the lock, being in want of a feather o' oil, made a noise,
and waukened the puir wretch, who, jumping to the soles of
his feet in despair, cried out in a voice that was like to break
my heart, though I couldna make out ae word of his para-
phernally. It minded me, by a' the world, of a wheen cats
fuffing and feighting through ither, and whiles something
that sounded like "Sugar, sugar, measure the cord," and
"dabble, dabble." It was waur than the maist outrageous
Gaelic ever spoken in the height o' passion by a Hieland
shearer.
"Oho!" thinks I, " friend, ye cannot be a Christian from
your lingo, that's one thing poz; and I would wager tippence


THE LIFE OK MANSIE WAUCII. 251
you're a Frenchy. Who kens keeps us all, but ye may be a
Bonaparte himself in disguise, come over in a flat-bottomed
boat, to spy the nakedness of the land. So ye may just
rest content, and keep your quarters good till the morn's
morning."
It was a wonderful business, and enough to happen to a
man in the course of his lifetime to find Mounseer from
Paris in his coal neuk, and have the enemy of his country
snug under lock and key; so while he kept rampaging,
fuffing, stamping, and diabbling away I went in and brought
out Bcnjie with a blanket row'd round him, and my journey-
man, Tommy Bodkin—who, being an orphan, I made a kind
of parlour boarder of, he sleeping on a shake-down beyond
the kitchen fire—to hold a consultation and be witness of
the transaction.
I got my musket, and Tommy Bodkin armed himself with
the goose, a deadly weapon, whoever may get a clour with
it, and Benjie took the poker in one hand and the tongs in
the other; and out we all marched briskly to make the
Frenchman that was locked up from the light of day in
the coal house surrender. After hearkening at the door
for a while, and finding all quiet, he gave a knock to rouse
him up and see if we could bring anything out of him by
speering him cross-questions. Tammy and Benjie trembled
from top to toe, like aspen leaves, but fient a word could we
make common sense of it all. I wonder wha edicates thae
foreign creatures? It was in vain to follow him, for he just
gab, gabbled away like ane o' the stone masons at the tower
of Babel. At first I was completely bamboozled and amaist
dung stupid, though I kent a word of French which I wantit
to pit till him, so I cried through—" Canna you speak
Frencha, Mounseer?"
He hadna the politeness to stop and mak' answer, but
just gaed on wi' his string of havers, without either rhyme
or reason, which we could mak' neither tap, tail, nor main o'.


252 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
It was a Hair trial to us a', putting us to our wit's end, and
hoo to come on was past all visible comprehension, when
Tammy Bodkin, gi'eing his elbow a claw, said—"Od,
maister, I wager something that he's broken loose frae
Pennycuick. We have him like a rotten in a fa'." On
Pennycuick being mentioned, we heard the foreign crature
in the coal house groaning out, "Och" and "ohone," and
"parbleu," and "Mysie Rabbie "—that, I fancy, was his
sweetheart at hame, sum bit French queen that wondered he
was never like to come frae the wars and marry her. I
thocht on this, for his voice was mouinfu', though I couldna
understand the words; and, kenning he was a stranger in a
far land, my bowels yearned within me with compassion
towards him.
I wad ha'e gien half-a-crown at that blessed moment to
ha'e been able to wash my hands free o' him, but I swithered,
and was like the cuddie between the twa bundles of hay.
At lang and last a thocht struck me, which was to gi'e the
deluded,'simple cratur a chance of escape, reckoning that if
he fund his way hame he wad see the shame and folly of
feighting against us ony mair, and, marrying Maysie Rabbie,
live a contented and peacefu' life under his ain feg and bay
tree. So, wishing him a sound sleep, I cried through the
door—" Mounseer, gooda nighta," decoying away Benjie and
Tammy Bodkin into the house and dispatching them to
their beds like lamplighters, bidding them never fash their
thumbs, but sleep like taps, as I would keep a sharp look-
out till morning.
As soon, hoosomever, as I fand a' things snug I slippitawa
to the coal-hole, and, giein' the key a canny turn in the lock,
I went to my bed beside Nanse.
At the dawn o' day, by cock-craw, Benjie and Tammy
Bodkin, keen o' the ploy, were up and astir as anxious as if
their life depended on it, to see that all was safe and snug
and that the prisoner hadna shot the lock. They agreed to


254 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
THE LIFE AND
ASTONISHING ADVENTURES
OF
PETER WILLIAMSON
WHO WAS
Carried off when a Child from Aberdeen
AND SOLD FOR A SLAVE.
I was born in the parish of Aboyne, Aberdeenshire, of
respectable parents, who sent me very early to live with
an aunt at Aberdeen. When, under the years of pupilarity,
once playing on the quay with others of my companions—
being of a stout robust constitution—I was taken notice of
by two fellows belonging to a vessel in the harbour em-
ployed in the trade called kidnapping—that is, stealing
young children from their parents, and selling them as
slaves in plantations abroad. Being marked out by those
monsters of impiety as their prey, I was cajoled on board
the ship by them, where I was no sooner got than they
conducted me between the decks to some others they had
kidnapped in the same manner. At that time I had no
sense of the fate that was destined for me, and spent the
time in childish amusements with my fellow-sufferers in
the steerage, being never suffered to go upon deck whilst
the vessel lay in the harbour.
In about a month's time the ship set sail for America. I
cannot forget that, when we arrived on the coast we were


ADVENTURES OF PETElt WILLIAMSON. 255
destined for, a hard gale of wind sprung up from the S.E.,
and, to the captain's great surprise (he not thinking he was
near land, although having been eleven weeks on the pas-
sage), about twelve o'clock at night, the ship struck on a
sandbank off Cape May, near the Capes of Delaware, and,
to the great terror and affright of the ship's company, in a
short time was almost full of water. The boat was then
hoisted out, into which the captain and his fellow villains,
the crew, got with some difficulty, leaving me and my
deluded companions to perish, as they then naturally con-
cluded inevitable death to be our fate. Often in my dis-
tresses and miseries since, have I wished that such had been
the consequence, when in a state of innocence! But Provi-
dence thought proper to reserve me for future tibials of its
goodness. Thus abandoned and deserted, without the least
prospect of relief, but threatened every moment with death,
did these villains leave us. The cries, the shrieks and tears
of a parcel of infants had no effect on, or caused the least
remorse in, the breasts of these merciless wretches. Scarce
can I say to which to give the preference, whether to such
as these who have had the opportunity of knowing the
Christian religion, or to the savages hereinafter described—
who profane not the gospel or boast of humanity; and if
they act in a more brutal and butcherly manner, jet it is to
their enemies, for the sake of plunder and the rewards
offered them—for their principles are alike, the love of
sordid gain being both their motives. The ship being on
a sandbank, which did not give way to let her deeper, we
lay in the same deplorable condition until morning, when,
though we saw the laud of Cape May at about a mile's
distance, we knew not what would be our fate.
The wind at length abated, and the captain, unwilling to
lose all her cargo, about ten o'clock sent some of his crew in
a boat to the ship's side to bring us on shore, where we lay,
in a sort of a camp, made of the sails of the vessel, and such


256 AMUSING PIIOSE CHAP-BOOKS.
other things as we could get. The provisions lasted us until
we were taken in by a vessel bound to Philadelphia, lying
on this island, as well as I can recollect, near three weeks.
Very little of the cargo was saved undamaged, and the
vessel was entirely lost.
When arrived and landed at Philadelphia, the capital of
Pennsylvania, the captain had people enough who came to
buy us. He sold us at about £16 per head. What became
of my unhappy companions I never knew. It was my lot
to be sold to one of my countrymen, whose name was Hugh
Wilson, a North Briton, who had in his youth undergone
the same fate as myself, having been kidnapped from St.
Johnstown, in Scotland.
Happy was my lot in falling into my countryman's power,
as he was, contrary to many others of his calling, a humane,
worthy, honest man. Haviug no children of his own, and
commiserating my unhappy condition, he took great care of
me until [ was fit for business, and about the twelfth year
of my age, set me about little trifles, in which state I con-
tinued until my fourteenth year, when I was more fit for
• harder work. During such my idle state, seeing my fellow-
servants often reading and writing, it incited in me an in-
clination to learn, which I intimated to my master, telling
him I should be very willing to serve a year longer than
the contract by which I was sold, if he would indulge me in
going to school; this he readily agreed to, saying that winter
would be the best time. It being then summer, I waited
with impatience for the other season; but, to make some
progress in my design, 1 got a Primer, and learned as much
from my fellow-servants as I could. At school, where I
went every winter for five years, I made a tolerable pro-
ficiency, and have ever since been improving myself at
leisure hours. With this good master I continued till I
was seventeen years old, when he died; and as a reward
for my faithful service, he left me £200 currency, which


ADVENTURES OF PETER WILLIAMSON.
257
was then about £150 sterling, his best horse, saddle, and all
his wearing apparel.
Being now my own master, having money in my pocket,
and all other necessaries, I employed myself in jobbing
about the country, working for any one that would employ
me. for near seven years, when, thinking I had money suf-
ficient to follow some better way of life, T resolved to settle,
but thought one step necessary thereto was to be married;
for which purpose I applied to the daughter of a substantial
planter, and found my suit was not unacceptable to her or
her father, so that matters were soon concluded upon, and
we married. My father-in-law, in order to establish us in
the world in an easy, if not affluent manner, made me a
deed of gift of a tract of land, that lay, unhappily for me, as
it has since proved, on the frontiers of the province of Penn-
sylvania, near the forks of Delaware, in Berks County, con-
taining about two hundred acres, thirty of which were well
cleared and fit for immediate use, whereon was a good house
and barn. The place pleasing me well, I settled on it,
though it cost me the major part of my money in buying
stock, household furniture, and implements for out-door
work. And happy as I was in a good wife, yet did my
felicity last me not long, for about the year 1754, the Indians
in the French interest, who had for a long time before
ravaged and destroyed other parts of America unmolested,
I may very properly say, began to be very troublesome on
the frontiers of our province, where they generally appeared
in small skulking parties, with yellings, shoutings, and antic
postures, instead of trumpets and drums, committing great
devastations. The Pennsylvanians little imagined at first
that the Indians, guilty of such outrages and violence, were
some of those who pretended to be in the English interest,
which, alas! proved to be too true to many of us; for, like
the French in Europe, without regard to faith or treaties,
they suddenly break out into furious, rapid outrages and


260 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
five sheep, which were entirely consumed to ashes. During
the conflagration, to describe the thoughts, the fears, and
misery that I felt, is utterly impossible; after this they un-
tied me, and gave me a great load to carry on my back,
under which I travelled all that night with them, full of
the most terrible apprehensions, and oppressed with the
greatest anxiety of mind, lest my unhappy wife should
likewise have fallen a prey to those cruel monsters.
At daybreak my infernal masters ordered me to lay down
my load, when, tying my hands again round a tree with a
small cord, they then forced the blood out of my finger-ends.
They then kindled a fire near the tree whereto I was bound,
which filled me with dreadful agonies, concluding I was
going to be made a sacrifice to their barbarity.
The fire being thus made, they for some time danced
round me after their manner, with various odd motions and
antic gestures, whooping, hallooing, and crying in a frightful
manner, as it is their custom. Having satisfied themselves
in this sort of their mirth, they proceeded in a more tragical
manner, taking the burning coals and sticks, flaming with
tire at the ends, holding them near my face, head, hands,
and feet, with a deal of monstrous pleasure and satisfaction,
and at the same time threatening to burn me entirely if I
made the least noise or motion of my body. Thus tortured,
as I was, almost to death, I suffered their brutal pleasure
without being allowed to vent my inexpressible anguish
otherwise than by shedding tears; even which, when these
inhuman tormentors observed, with a shocking pleasure and
alacrity, they would take fresh coals and apply near my
eyes, telling me my face was wet, and that they would dry
it for me. How I suffered these tortures I have here faintly
described has been matter of wonder to me many times;
but God enahled me to wait with more than common
patience for a deliverance I daily prayed for.
Having at length satisfied their brutal pleasure, they sat


262 AMDSINO PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
affectionate soothings, which issued from this most horrid
sacrifice of an innocent family. Not contented with what
they had already done, they still continued their inordinate
villainy, in making a general conflagration of the barn and
stables, together with all the corn, horses, cows, and every-
thing on the place.
Thinking the young man belonging to this unhappy
family would be of some service to them in carrying part
of their plunder, they spared his life, and loaded him and
myself with what they had here got, and again marched to
the Blue Hills, where they stowed their goods as before.
My fellow-sufferer could not long bear the cruel treatment
which we were both obliged to suffer, and complaining bit-
terly to me of being unablo to proceed any farther, I endea-
voured to condole him as much as lay in my power, to bear
up under his afflictions, and wait with patience till, by the
divine assistance, we should be delivered out of their
clutches; but in vain, for he still continued his moans and
tears, which one of the savages perceiving as we travelled
on, instantly came up to us, and with his tomahawk gave
him a blow on the head, which felled the unhappy 3'outh to
the ground, where they immediately scalped and left him.
The suddenness of this murder shocked me to that degree,
that I was in a manner like a statue, being quite motionless,
expecting my fate would soon be the same; however, re-
covering my distracted thoughts, I dissembled the uneasi-
ness and anguish which I felt as well as I could from the
barbarians; but such was the terror that I was under, that
for some time I scarce knew the days of the week, or what
I did, so that, at this period, life indeed became a burden to
me, and I regretted being saved from my first persecutors,
the sailors.
The horrid fact being completed, they kept on their course
near the mountains, where they lay skulking four or five
days, rejoicing at the plunder and store they had got. When


ADVENTURES OF PETER WILLIAMSON.
2G3
provisions became scarce, they made their way toward?
Susquehana, where still, to add to the many barbarities
they had already committed, passing near another house
inhabited by an unhappy old man, whose name was John
Adams, with his wife and four small children; and, meeting
with no resistance, they immediately scalped the unhappy
wife and her four children before the good old man's eyes.
Inhuman and horrid as this was, it did not satiate them, for
when they had murdered the poor woman, they acted with
her in such a brutal manner as decency, or the remembrance
of the crime, will not permit me to mention, and this even
before the unhappy husband, who, not being able to avoid
the sight, and incapable of affording her the least relief,
entreated them to put an end to his miserable being. But
they were as deaf and regardless to the tears, prayers, and
entreaties of this venerable sufferer as they had been to
those of the others, and proceeded in their hellish purpose
of burning and destroying his house, barn, cattle, hay, corn,
and everything the poor man a few hours before was master
of. Having saved what thej' thought proper from the
flames, they gave the old man, feeble, weak, and in the
miserable condition he then was, as well as myself, burdens
to carry, and loading themselves likewise with bread and
meat, pursued their journey on towards the Great Swamp,
where, being arrived, they lay for eight or nine days, some-
times diverting themselves in exercising the most atrocious
and barbarous cruelties on their unhappy victim, the old
man. Sometimes they would strip him naked and paint
him all over with various sorts of colours, which they ex-
tracted or made from herbs and roots; at other times they
would pluck the white hairs from his venerable beard, and
tauntingly tell him he was a fool for living so long, and
that they would show him kindness in putting him out of
the world; to all which the poor creature could but vent
his sighs, his tears, his moans, and entreaties, that, to my


ADVKNTU11ES OF PETER WILLIAMSON. 2G5
on the 25th day of October, 1754, when John Lewis, with
his wife and three small children, fell sacrifices to their
cruelty, and were miserably scalped and murdered, his
house, barn, and everything he possessed being burnt and
destroyed. On the 28th, Jacob Miller, with his wife and
six of .his family, together with everything on his planta-
tion, underwent the same fate. The 30th—the house, mill,
barn, twenty head of cattle, two teams of horses, and every-
thing belonging to the unhappy George Folke, met with the
like treatment—himself, wife, and all his miserable family,
consisting of nine in number, being inhumanly scalped, then
cut in pieces and given to the swine, which devoured them.
I shall give another instance of the numberless and unheard
of barbarities they related of the savages, and proceed to
their own tragical end. In short, one of the substantial
traders belonging to the province, having business that
called him some miles up the country, fell into the hands of
these devils, who not only scalped him, but immediately
roasted him before he was dead; then, like cannibals for
want of other food, ate his whole body, and of his head
made what they called an Indian pudding.
From these few instances of savage cruelty, the deplorable
situation of the defenceless inhabitants, and what they
hourly suffered in that part of the globe, must strike the
utmost terror to a human soul, and cause in every breast
the utmost detestation, not only against the authors of such
tragic scenes, but against those who, through perfidy, in-
attention, or pusillanimous and erroneous principles, suffered
these savages at first, unrepelled, or even unmolested, to
commit such outrages and incredible depredations and mur-
ders; for no torments, no barbarities that can be exercised
on the human sacrifices they get into their power, are left
untried or omitted.
The three prisoners that were brought with these addi-
tional forces, constantly repining at their lot, and almost


266 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
dead with their excessive hard treatment, contrived at last
to make their escape; but being far from their own settle-
ments, and not knowing the country, were soon after met
by some others of the tribes or nations at war with us, and
brought back to their diabolical masters, who greatly re-
joiced at having them again in their infernal power. The
poor creatures, almost famished for want of sustenance,
having had none during the time of their elopement, were
no sooner in the clutches of the barbarians, than two of
them were tied to a tree, and a great fire made round them,
where they remained till they were terribly scorched and
burnt, when one of the villains, with his scalping knife,
ripped open their bellies, took out their entrails, and burnt
them before their eyes, whilst the others were cutting,
piercing, and tearing the flesh from their breasts, hands,
arms, and legs, with red-hot irons, till they were dead. The
third unhappy victim was reserved a few hours longer, to
be, if possible, sacrificed in a more cruel manner. His arms
were tied close to his body, and a hole being dug deep
enough for him to stand upright, he was put therein, and
earth rammed and beat in all round his body, up to the
neck, so that his head only appeared above the ground;
they then scalped him, and there let him remain for three
or four hours in the greatest agonies; after which they
made a small fire near his head, causing him to suffer the
most excruciating torments imaginable, whilst the poor
creature could only cry for mercy in killing him imme-
diately, for his brains were boiling in his head. Inexorable
to all his plaints, they continued the fire, whilst, shocking
to behold, his eyes gushed out of their sockets; and such
agonizing torments did the unhappy creature suffer for near
two hours, till he was quite dead! They then cut off his
head and buried it with the other bodies, my task being to
dig the graves, which, feeble and terrified as I was, the
dread of suffering the same fate enabled me to do. I shall


ADVENTURES OF PETER WILLIAMSON.
2G7
not here take up the reader's time in vainly attempting to
describe what I felt on such an occasion, but continue my
narrative, as more equal to my abilities.
A great snow now falling, the barbarians were a little
fearful lest the white people should, by their traces, find out
their skulking retreats, which'obliged them to make the
best of their way to their winter quarters, about two hun-
dred miles farther from any plantation or inhabitants, where,
after a long and tedious journey, being almost starved, I
arrived with this infernal crew. The place where we were
to rest, in their tongue, is called Alamingo. There were
found a number of wigwams full of their women and chil-
dren. Dancing, shooting, and shouting were their general
amusements; and in all their festivals and dances they
relate what successes they have had, and what damages
they have sustained in their expeditions, in which I became
part of their theme. The severity of the cold increasing,
they stripped me of my clothes, for their own use, and gave
me such as they usually wore themselves, being a piece of
blanket, a pair of mogganes, or shoes, with a yard of coarse
cloth to put round me instead of breeches. To describe
their dress and manner of living may not be altogether un-
acceptable to some of my readers but, as the size of this
book will not permit me to be so particular as I might
otherwise be, I shall just observe that they in general wear
a white blanket, which in war-time they paint with various
figures, but particularly the leaves of trees, in order to
deceive their enemies when in the woods. Their mogganes
are made of deer-skins, and the best sort have them bound
round the edges with little beads and ribbands. On their
legs they wear pieces of blue cloth for stockings, some like
our soldiers' splatter-dashes. They reach higher than their
knees, but not lower than their ancles. They esteem them
easy to run in. Breeches they never wear, but instead
thereof, two pieces of linen, one before and another behind.


268 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
The better sort have shirts of the finest linen they can get,
and to these some wear ruffles; but these they never put on
till they have painted them of various colours, which they
get from the pecone root and bark of trees, and never pull
them off to wash, but wear them till they fall to pieces.
They are very proud, and take great delight in wearing
trinkets, such as silver plates round their wrists and necks,
with several strings of wampum, which is made of cotton,
interwoven with pebbles, cockleshells, etc., down to their
breasts, and from their ears and noses they have rings or
beads, which hang dangling an inch or two. The men have
no beards, to prevent which they use certain instruments
and tricks as soon as it begins to grow. The hair of their
heads is managed differently; some pluck out and destroy
all, except a lock hanging from the crown of the head,
which they interweave with wampum and feathers of
various colours. The women wear it very long, twisted
down their backs with beads, feathers, and wampum, and
on their heads most of them wear little coronets of brass or
copper; round their middle they wear a blanket instead of
a petticoat. The females are very chaste and constant to
their husbands; and if any young maiden should happen to
have a child before marriage, she is never esteemed after-
wards. As for their food, they get it chiefly by hunting
and shooting, and boil or roast all the meat they eat. Their
standing dish consists of Indian corn soaked, then bruised
and boiled. Their bread is likewise made of wild oats, or
Bunflower seeds. Their gun, tomahawk, scalping-knife,
powder, and shot, they carry with them in time of war.
They in war decline open engagements—bush-fighting or
skulking is their discipline. They are brave when engaged,
having great fortitude in enduring tortures, and arer the
most implacably vindictive people upon the earth; for they
revenge the death of any relation, or any affront, whenever
occasion presents, let the distance of time be ever so remote.


THE FAMOUS EXPLOITS OF ROBIN HOOD. 269
After long enduring the greatest of hardships with these
Indians, I at last escaped out of their hands, and went to
Quebec, where I was put/on board a French packet bound
for England; and after a passage of six weeks, we at last,
to our great joy, arrived at Plymouth on the 6th of Novem-
ber, 1756.
THE
FAMOUS EXPLOITS
or
ROBIN HOOD
LITTLE JOHN ahd HIS MERRY MEN ALL
INCLUDING AN ACCOUNT OF HIS
, BIRTH, EDUCATION, AND DEATH.
Chapter I.
The Birth and Parentage of Robin Hood.
Kind gentlemen, listen a while to my story, and I will tell
you the bold exploits of the famous Robin Hood and his
comrade, Little John.
All England was filled with the renown of Robin Hood,
and the great and the valiant stood in fear of him. He
never harmed the poor, for he pitied their fate, and only
spoiled the wealthy and proud, or nobles and slothful
bishops, who lived in state on the fruit of the husbandman's
toil. Robin was born in the merry town of Lockslcy, in
18


270 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Nottinghamshire. His father was a stout forester, and kept
the deer of King Richard the First; his mother was niece to
the celebrated Sir Guy of Warwick, and was sister to Squire
Gamewell, of Great Gamewell Hall.
One day (when Robin was about fourteen years old) his
mother thus spoke to her spouse—" Dear husband, to-mor-
row is Christmas Day, therefore let Robin and I take a ride
to Gamewell Hall this morning to see my brother and taste
his good ale and pudding. The squire was overjoyed to see
his sister, and young Robin learned the use of the bow, and
became the best marksman in the place.
Chapter II.
Bobin's Progress to Nottingham. Being an Account of his
Adventures with tfie Fifteen Foresters.
Robin Hood was now about fifteen years old; in person
tall and stout, and of a good countenance; in courage and
strength few equalled him. One day he determined to take
a journey to Nottingham, hearing that the king had ap-
pointed a shooting match in that town, to be disputed by
the best archers. When he came thither he happened to
fall into company with fifteen stout foresters, who sat drink-
ing and laughing together. "What news, what news?"
said bold Robin Hood, " that you drink and talk so merrily."
The foresters who despised him on account of his youth,
answered roughly, "We are come to win the king's prize,
which we are resolved to carry off, in spite of all opposition,
and will not be questioned by boys." "I have as good a
bow as the best," said Robin Hood, "and will contest the
prize with you." "We hold thee and thy bow in scorn,"
said they; "shall a stripling like thee bear a bow before the
king's archers, that is not able to draw the string?" "I'll
lay a bet of twenty crowns," said Robin, "that I win the
king's prize, and hit the mark at a hundred yards distance.
"Doubt not I'll make the wager good,
Or ne'er believe bold Robin Hood."


272 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
in this most ridiculous state drove them back into the town,
telling them if they offered to return they should not escape
with their lives. As soon as they entered the streets the
whole place was in an uproar, and, what with the barking
of a hundred dogs, the squalling of women, and hooting of
boys and men, there was such a hubbub as never before had
been known in the town of Nottingham.
CHAPTER III.
Robin Hood and Little John. Being an Account of their
First Meeting, and how their Acquaintance
and Friendship began, with their Merry Reception in
Sherwood Bower.
WHEN bold Robin Hood was about twenty years old he
happened to meet with a jolly stranger, whom he afterwards
called Little John. This man, though called little, was a
lusty young blade; his limbs were large, and his person
seven feet high. Wherever he went people quaked at his
name, and he made all his enemies to fly before him. "Twas
thus their acquaintance began –
Robin and his men had built, in Sherwood Forest, a strong
and secret bower, so artfully contrived and hidden among
the woods, that none but themselves could ever find them
out, and to which they retreated in cases of need. Here
Robin once continued fourteen days with his merry bow-
men, and then he said to them—“Tarry a while in this
grove, my brave men; we have had no sport for these many
long days, therefore, I will wander abroad a short way to
seek some amusement. But do you be attentive, and hear
whenever I blow an alarm with my loud bugle horn, for by
this means I will let you know if I want your assistance.”
After he had strayed some time near a brook, he espied a
tall and lusty stranger coming towards him. They happened
to meet on a long, narrow wooden bridge, and neither of
them would give way to let the other pass. Robin Hood at
length, being enraged, drew an arrow from his quiver, and


THE FAMOUS EXPLOITS OF ROBIN HOOD. 273
threatened to shoot at the stranger's breast . "You dare
not," said the other," for if you offer to touch the string, I'll
beat out your teeth and tumble you into the brook. You
see I have nothing but a staff in my hand, and none but a
coward would offer to fight with weapons so different."
"The name of a coward," said Robin, "I scorn; I will
therefore lay aside my bow and arrows and take a stout
staff to prove thy manhood." The stranger accepted the
challenge, and the sport was quickly begun. At first Robin
gave the man such a stroke that it made his sides ring. The
other said, " I must pay you for this, friend, and give you as
good as you send, for as long as I am able to handle a staff
I scorn to die in your debt." He then gave Robin so hearty
a knock on the crown, that the blood ran trickling down to
his ears. Robin now engaged more fiercely, and laid on his
blows so thick and fast, that he made his adversary's coat
smoke as if it had been on fire; but the stranger waxing
most furious and strong, at length gave Rohin such a terrible
side-blow, that it quite beat him down and tumbled him
into the brook. Then, in laughter, he called out to his
fallen foe, " Prithee, where art thou now, my good fellow!"
"Why, faith," said Robin, "I swim with the tide, as every
man should do." He now swam along to the bank, and
pulled himself out by a thorn, and then said to the con-
queror, "Thou art a brave soul, I will contend no longer
with thee."
He then took up his horn and blew such a blast with it
as made the hills echo all around. Presently they saw com-
ing hastily down the hillside a band of brave archers,
clothed in a livery of green. They quickly came up to
Robin Hood, and Will Stuckley (their leader) cried out,
"Pray, what is the matter, good master? why, you seem wet
to the skin!" "No matter for that," said Robin, " the man
that stands by has, in fighting, tumbled me into the brook."
"If that be the case," said his men, "he shall not escape


274
AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
without a good ducking in the same stream." "Not so, my
brave men," said Robin Hood, "he is a stout, hearty fellow,
that fought me fairly. My friend," said he to the stranger,
pray be not afraid, for no harm shall befall thee; all these are
my bowmen, that come at my call, and if thou wilt live with
me, and be one of them, thou shalt quickly put on such a dress
as theirs; we will teach thee the use of the bow to shoot the
fat deer, for we live gloriously, without any restraint, and
fear not the laws." "Then here is my hand," replied the
stranger, " I'll serve thee with a willing mind, for I perceive
you are all brave, hearty fellows. My name is John Little, I
am a man of some skill, and at all times will play my part
well."
"His name shall be altered," said Will Stuckley, "I like
not the sound of John Little, his name shall be called Little
John."
Chapter IV.
Robin Hood and the Butchers, with his Comical Behaviour
to tlie Sheriff of Nottingham.
One day as Robin Hood was taking his walk through the
forest, he happened to behold a jolly butcher, sitting between
his hampers, on a stout young mare, going to sell his meat
at market. "Good morrow, honest fellow," said Robin;
"prithee, what food hast thou in thy hampers, and from
whence comest thou? for I seem to have a liking to thy
company." The butcher replied, "No matter from whence
I come, master, nor where I dwell; you may see that I am
a butcher, and am going to Nottingham to sell my meat."
"Wilt thou sell thy meat to me?" said Robin; tell me the
price of it altogether; also, what thou wilt have for the
mare that carries thee, and all thy other accoutrements; we
will not differ about the cost, for I would fain be a butcher
for once." "The price of my meat and the price of my
mare," said the butcher, "shall be twenty good marks; and
I think they are nothing too dear." Robin agreed, and set


THE FAMOUS EXPLOITS OF ROBIN HOOD. 277
harm shall befall thee." And when he was come before
Robin Hood, Robin said to him, "Hast thou any money to
spare for my merry men and me? Come, answer without
fear." "Indeed I have no money to spare," said the young
man; "I have but five shillings and a little gold ring, aud
this ring I have kept for these seven long years to present
to my bride on my wedding day. Yesterday I should have
married the maid that I love, but she was chosen to be an
old knight's wife, and taken from me by force; therefore my
heart is nearly broken?"
Robin Hooil now set out, with fifty stout archers in his
train, nor did they stop till they came near to the church
where Allen should have been married. He then concealed
his men while he went boldly into the church. "What dost
thou here, bold mau?" said the bishop. "I am a merry
harper," said Robin, "as good as any in the north." "O,
welcome then," said the bishop, "for that music is my de-
light." Presently there came in a wealthy old knight lead-
ing a young damsel by the hand, of a fair though sorrowful
countenance, dressed in her glittering attire. "This is not
a fit match," said bold Robin Hood, "the bridegroom is
much too old and uncomely; but since I am here, and the
bride is prepared, she shall now choose her own mate."
Robin then applied the horn to his mouth, and blew twice
and thrice with it, at the sound of which his fifty stout
bowmen came leaping over the churchyard, and the first
man was Allen Adale, who gave bold Robin his bow. "This
is thy true lover," said Robin; "come, take her, and' be
married before we depart." "That never shall be," said the
bishop; "thy speech is too bold, and the law of our country
requires that they be three times asked in the church." ltobin
Hood then pulled off the bishop's rich apparel, and put it
upon Little John, aud made him appear like a priest. "By
my faith," said Robin, laughing, " that clothing becomes thee
well; thou now lookest like a man and a bishop; therefore


278" AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
begin thy office." When Little John went to the desk the
people began to laugh and seemed to enjoy the joke; he
asked them full seven times over to make the bauns sure,
lest three times should not be enough. "Who gives this fair
maid to Allen Adale for a wife ?" said Little John. "I give
her to him with all my heart," said Robin Hood, "and he
that dare to oppose, or take her away from her spouse, shall
buy her dearly."
Thus ended this merry wedding, and the new married
pair returned with Robin Hood to Sherwood bower.
Chapter VI.
Robin Hood and his Kinsman. Shotting how he met and
fought with a Stranger, who afterwards 'proved to
be his Cousin Scarlet.
As Robin walked about the forest one day he met with a
comely young man, dressed in a doublet of silk, with scarlet
hose, travelling boldly along with a stout bow in his hand.
A herd of fat deer happened to be feeding not far distant,
which, when the stranger saw, he bent his bow, and shot the
best of them through the heart. "Well shot, well shot,"
said Robin Hocd, " thy aim was good and sure; I like a bold
archer well; and if thou wilt be one-of my comrades, and
live in my bower, I will treat thee with noble entertainment,
and pay thee well besides." "Go, talk with thy grandame,"
said the stranger, "and make no such wild offers to me, or
else I shall use thee somewhat rudely." "Thou hadst better
be quiet," said Robin, " for if thou shouldest offer to make an
assault, thou wilt dearly repent of the deed; my arm is not
weak, and thou may est see that I carry a bow; besides,
though I am now alone, should I blow an alarm with my
loud bugle-horn, I should quickly have at my command a
hundred brave men." "I defy all thy power," said the other,
"and if thou offerest to touch thy horn, my good broadsword
shall cut it in two, and strike thee to the dust." Bold Robin


THE FAMOUS EXPLOITS OF ROU1N HOOD. 279
Hood then bent his stout bow, and stood ready to shoot at
his foe. The stranger also took his strong bow and as
readily stood on his guard. "Prithee, let us hold our hands,"
said Robin Hood, "for if we attempt to shoot, one of 'us
must infallibly die; let us now lay aside our bows and try
each other's skill with bucklers and good broadswords."
These rivals in skill then fought stoutly and boldly, and
many a hard blow resounded upon their bucklers. They
aimed their strong blows above and below, from the head
to the feet, but neither of them could make the other give
way. Robin Hood at length gave the stranger such a mighty
stroke that it made the fire fly from his eyes, and almost
deprived him of his senses. "I hope to give thee a blow,"
said the stranger, " that shall shame all the rest, and put an
end to the fray." Then presently, taking good aim with his
sword, he struck Robin upon the head with such force, that
the blood soon appeared and ran trickling down his cheeks.
"By my faith," said Robin Hood, "I must now beg for
quarter; prithee, my brave fellow, tell me who thou art,and
what is thy name, for I love and respect a brave man." The
stranger answered, "I was born and bred in the town of
Maxfield, and my name is Gamewell; I am forced to fly
from home and to hide myself for having killed my father's
steward, who had falsely accused me; and I came to this
forest to seek a bold uncle of mine, who goes by the name
of bold Robin Hood." "Art thou then a cousin of bold
Robin Hood's ?" answered he; "had I known it before, our
fight would have been sooner done." "On my life," said the
stranger, " I am his first kin, and son to his mother's second
brother, who now lives at court with the king, and for gal-
lant deeds he performed in Palestine he is soon to be made
a noble peer." When Robin heard this he embraced him
with great joy, and soon let him know that he himself was
his uncle Robin Hood. They then set out for the green
shady bower, and met Little John by the way.


280
AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Chapter VII.
Robin Hood and Bishop of Hereford. Robin Hood in
Distress changes Clothes with an old Woman to Escape from
the Bishop, whom he afterwards takes Prisoner, and
obliges him to sing Mass.
Robin Hood and all his men were now outlawed, because
they had broken the forest laws (which were very severe),
and had killed the king's fat deer.
As Robin walked out one fine summer's day, when the
fields were pleasant and green, and the birds sang sweetly in
the bushes, he was tempted to wander beyond the skirts of
the forest, far away from his bower; and as he was thinking
of going back he was espied by the proud bishop of Here-
ford, who was passing along with a great company. "Oh,
what shall I now do?" said Robin to himself. "If the
bishop should take me I shall be hanged without mercy."
Then Robin turned nimbly about and ran with full speed to
the house of an old woman whom he knew. "Good woman,"
said Robin, " I pray you let me in, for yonder is the bishop
and all his men, and if I am taken, I must die." "Why,
who art thou," said the old woman, " that comest hither in
such a fright?" "I am Robin Hood," he replied; "canst
thou not recollect me?" "I think I now do," said the old
woman, " and if thou art even Robin Hood, I will provide
for thy safety and hide thee from the proud bishop and his
company." "Then give me thy gown and thy female attire,"
said Robin, "and put thee on my livery of green: give me
also thy distaff and spindle, and take my arrows and bow."
When Robin Hood was thus arrayed he went forth with-
out fear, and returned to his men in the wood. When Little
John saw him thus dressed, coming over the forest, he cried,
"Behold, who is yonder, that seems approaching this way;
the old woman looks like a witch, and I will send an arrow
to meet her." "Hold thy rhand, hold thy hand," said Robin
Hood, " I am thy master in disguise, and this habit I was


THE FAMOUS EXPLOITS OF ROBIN HOOD. 281
forced to put on to escape from a strong enemy who had me
in chase."
Now, in the meantime, the bishop went to the old woman's
house, and with a loud, furious voice, cried, "Bring that
traitor, Robin Hood, that I may take him along with me
and make him pay the forfeit of all his bad deeds." The
old woman then came out dressed like Robin, and the bishop
placed her upon a grey steed, while he rode along laughing
for joy that he had seized upon bold Robin Hood. But as they
were riding through the forest in which their road lay, the
bishop espied a hundred tall men, stout and brave, coming
out of the wood, with their arrows in their hands. "Oh,
who are all these bowmen ?" said the bishop, "and who is
that man that leads them towards us so boldly?" "In good
faith," said the old woman, " I think it is bold Robin Hood."
"Then who art thou," said the bishop, trembling with fear.
"I am only a poor old woman, proud bishop," said she:
"hast thou auy occasion for me now?" Robin Hood com-
ing up, took the bishop by the hand, and placing him upon
the stump of a tree made him tune his voice and sing a full
mass to all the company; afterwards they brought him
through the wood, and having set him upon his horse with
his face towards the tail, they charged him for ever after to
pray for Robin Hood, and putting the tail in his hand, bid
him begone.
Chapter VIII.
Robin Hood and the Three Yeomen. Robin delivers Three
Yeomen from Nottingham Gallows, who were going
to be Hanged for Killing the King's Deer.
As Robin Hood wandered about the fields one day he met
a fair lady who came weeping along the road in great dis-
tress. "Oh, why do you weep so pitifully," said Robin, "and
what is the cause of your great distress?" "I weep," she
replied, "for the sorrowful fate of three brothers, the bravest
aud dearest of men, who are all condemned to die." "What


282 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
church have they robbed?" said Robin, "or what parish
priest have they killed? or have they in treason been caught
against the rightful king?" "Woe is me!" said the lady,
"for my brothers must die, and only for killing the king's
fallow deer." "They shall not die," said bold Robin Hood;
"therefore go your way quickly home, and I will hasten to
Nottingham for the sake of your three hapless brothers."
Robin Hood then set out to Nottingham, and in his way
met with a poor beggar man, who came walking slowly and
mournfully along the highway. "What news, my old
man?"said Robin, "what news dost thou bring from the
town?" "Oh! there is weeping and wailing in Nottingham
town," cried the old beggar man, "for the sake of three yeomen
who are condemned to die, for they are greatly beloved."
The beggar had a tattered old coat upon his back which
was neither green, yellow, nor red, but some of every colour;
and Robin Hood thought it would be no disgrace, for once,
to be in the beggar's dress. "Come, pull off thy coat, my
old beggar," said he, "and thou shalt put on mine, and
thirty shillings beside I will give thee to buy bread and
beer." When Robin was thus arrayed, away he went to the
town, and when he came thither he soon found the sheriff
and his men, and likewise the three sorrowful yeomen who
were going to die. "One favour I humbly beg," said bold
Robin Hood to the sheriff, " that I may be the hangman
when the three yeomen are to die." "'Tis granted with free
goodwill," said the sheriff; "therefore go and prepare thy-
self for thine office, for they have but few hours to live."
Robin then returned to his brave band of archers, whom
he brought and placed in ambush near the field where the
gallows was fixed; afterwards going again to the sheriff, the
three yeomen were led to the appointed spot. "Now, begin
thine office, my jolly hangman," said the sheriff, "for these
yeomen no longer must live; and thou shalt have all their
good clothing, and all their money besides."


THE FAMOUS EXPLOITS OF ROBIN HOOD. 283
Then Robin mounted the gallows, with his horn in his
hand, and he made it sound loud and shrill, when quickly
came marching over the field a hundred and more of his
faithful bowmen, all clothed in green. "Whose men are all
these," said the sheriff, " that come marching so boldly this
way?" "Oh, these are all Robin Hood's men," said he, "and
they are come to fetch me, and likewise to take the three
yeomen, who are going to die." "Oh, take them, pray take
them, without more ado," said the sheriff; "for there is not
a man in all Nottingham that can do the like of thee."
Chapter IX.
Robin Hood and the Tinker of Banbury.
In summer time when the leaves were green and birds
sang merrily upon every tree, Robin Hood set out to Not-
tingham in disguise, and as he went along the road he over-
took a jolly tinker. Robin greeted him kindly, and after
some discourse, said, " Tell me whence thou comest, my jolly
fellow, and in what town thou wast bred, for I hear there
is sad news in Nottingham, and when thou knowest it thou
may not choose to go thither." "I come from Banbury,"
said the other, "where I was born and bred, and am a tinker
by trade; now tell me the news thou hast heard." "My
news is only this," said Robin, " two tinkers were yesterday
set in the stocks for drinking ale and strong beer." "If
that bo all," said the tinker, " I value not your news a farth-
ing; for in drinking good ale and beer I am sure never to
be outdone, and resolve to have my share; and if I may
judge by your looks, you often take a good part." "Now,"
said Robin Hood, " tell me what news has come to thy ears,
for, as thou travellest from town to town, thou canst never be
in want of good stories." "All the news that I lately have
heard," said the tinker, "relates to a bold outlaw who is
called Robin Hood; the king has given out warrants to ap-
prehend him, and I have one in my pocket to take him,
whenever I can find him; and if thou canst tell me where


284 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
he is, and assist me to seize him, it will make us rich men,
for a hundred pounds, or more, will be our reward." "Let
me see the warrant," said Robin, "that I may know if it be
good, and I will do the best that I can to assist thee in
taking him this very night." "My wanant I shall not let
thee see," said the tinker, " for I dare not trust it out of my
hand."
As soon as they came to Nottingham they went to a good
inn, and calling for strong ale and wine, the tinker drank so
much that he forgot what he had to do, so that at night
Robin made haste away, taking the tinker's warrant, and
left him in the lurch to pay all the reckoning. When the
tinker awoke in the morning and found that his comrade
was gone, he called for the host and said, "I had a warrant
from the king that might have done me good, for it was to
take a bold outlaw called Robin Hood; but now my wanant
is stolen away from me, and I have not money enough to
pay the score, for the man that came with me last night is
fled away; therefore tell me what I have got to pay, and I
will leave my tools with thee in pledge till I return."
The tinker then went his way, and soon learnt in the town
that the only way to find out bold Robin Hood was to seek
him in the parks, killing the king's deer. Away then he
went, and made no delay till he found Robin Hood chasing
the deer through the woods. "What bold knave is that,"
said Robin, " that comes so freely to hinder my sport." "No
knave am I," cried the tinker, " and that you soon will know
to your cost; which of us have done wrong my crab-tree
shall decide." The tinker and Robin then fought manfully,
and the fray lasted three hours, or more, but at length the
tinker thrashed Robin's bones so sore, that he made him cry
out for peace. "One favour I have to beg," said Robin
Hood, " and I pray thee to grant it me." "The only favour I
will grant," said the tinker, "is to hang thee on a tree."
But while the tinker turned round, Robin blew his horn, at


286 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
HISTORY OF
DR. FAUSTUS
SHOWING
His wicked Life and horrid Death, and how he sold himself
to the Devil, to have power for twenty-four years to do
what he pleased, also many strange things done by him
with the assistance of
MEPHISTOPHELES.
With an account how the Devil came for him at the end of
twenty-four years, and tore him to pieces.
Chapter I.
Dr. Faiiatua' birth and education, with an account of his
falling from the Scriptures.
Dr. John Faustus was born in Germany. His father was
a poor labouring man, not able to bring up his son John;
but he had a brother in the same country, who was a very
rich man, but had never a child, and took a great fancy to
his cousin, and he resolved to make a scholar of him;
and in order thereunto, put him to the Latin school, where
he took his learning extraordinary well. Afterwards he put
him to the University to study divinity; but Faustus could
in no ways fancy that employment; wherefore he betook him-
self to the studying of that which his inclination is most for,
viz., necromancy and conjuration, and in a little time few or
none could outstrip him in the art. He also studied divinity,
of which he was made Doctor; but within a short time fell
into such deep fancies and cogitations that he resolved to
throw the Scriptures from him, and betake himself wholly'


THE HISTORY OF DR. FAUSTUS. 287
to the studying of necromancy and conjuration, charms and
soothsaying, witchcraft, and the like.
Chapter II.
How Dr. Faustus conjured up Hie Devil, making him appear
at his own house.
Faustus, whose mind was to study conjuration, the which
he followed night and day, he took the wings of an eagle,
and endeavoured to fly over the world, to see and know all
the secrets of heaven and earth; so that in a short time he
attained power to command the Devil to appear before him
when he pleased. One day as Dr. Faustus was walking in
a wood near to Wurtemberg, in Germany, he having a friend
with him who was desirous to know of the doctor's art, he
desired him to let him see if he could then and there bring
Mephistopheles before him; all which the doctor immedi-
ately did, and the devil upon the first call made such a
noise in the wood as if heaven and earth would have come
together; then the devil made such a roaring as if the wood
had been full of wild beasts. The doctor made a circle for
the devil, the which circle the devil ran round, making a
noise as if ten thousand waggons had been running upon
paved stones. After this it thundered and lightened, as if
the whole world had been on fire. Faustus and his friend,
amazed at this noise, and the devil's long tarrying, thought
to leave his circle; whereupon he made him such music, the
like was never heard in the world. This so ravished Faustus
that he began again to conjure Mephistopheles in the name
of the prince of the devils to appear in his own likeness;
whereupon in an instant hung over his head a mighty
dragon. Faustus calls again after his former manner, after
which there was a cry in the wood as if hell had opened,
and all the tormented souls had been there. Faustus, in the
meanwhile, asked the devil many questions, and commanded
Jiiin to show many diabolical tricks.


288 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Chapter III.
How Mephiatophelea came to Dr. Faustus house, and what
happened between them.
Faustus commanded the spirit to meet him at his house liy
ten of the clock the next day. At the hour appointed he
came into his chamber asking Faustus what he would have.
Faustus told him it was his will and pleasure to conjure
him to be obedient to him in all points of those articles,
viz.:—
First, That the spirit should serve him in all things he
asked, from that time till his death.
Secondly, Whatsoever he would have, he should bring
him.
Thirdly, Whatsoever he desired to know, he should tell
him.
The spirit answered him and said he had no such power
of himself, until he had acquainted his prince that ruled
over him. "For," said he, "we have rulers over us that
send us out, and command us home when they please; and
we can act no further than our power is, which we receive
from Lucifer, who, you know, for his pride, was thrust out of
heaven. But," saith the spirit, "I am not to tell you any
more except you make yourself over to us."
Whereupon Faustus said, " I will have my request? but
yet I will not be damned with you." Then sard the spirit,
"You must not, nor shall not have your desire, and yet thou
art mine, and all the world cannot save thee out of my
hands." Then said Faustus, " Get thee hence, and I conjure
thee that thou come to me at night." The spirit then
vanished. Faustus then began to consider how he might
obtain his desire, and not give his soul to the devil.
And while Faustus was in these his devilish cogitations
night drew on, and this hellish spirit appeared to Faustus,
acquainting him that now he had got orders from his prince
to be obedient to him, and to do for him whatsoever he de-


290 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
done, he should enjoy all the pleasure his thoughts could
form, and that he would immediately divert him. He caused
a kennel of hounds to run down a hart in the hall, and
vanished; then a bull danced before Faustus, also there was
a lion and a bear, which fell to fighting before Faustus, and
tho lion destroyed the bear; after that came a dragon and
destroyed the lion. And this, with abundance of more
pastime, did the spirit present to the doctor's view, conclud-
ing with all manner of music, with some hundreds of spirits,
which came and danced before Faustus. After the music
was over, and Faustus began to look about him, he saw ten
sacks full of silver, which he went to dispose of, but could
not, for none could handle it but himself, it was so hot. This
pastime so pleased Faustus, that he gave Mephistopheles the
will that he had made, and kept a copy of it in his own
hands. The spirit and Faustus being agreed, they dwelt
together, and the devil was in their house-keeping, for there
was never anything given away to poor, which before
Faustus made this contract was frequently done, but the
case is now altered.
Chapter V.
How Faustus served the Duke of Bavaria.
Faustus having sold his soul to the devil, it was reported
among his neighbours, so that none would keep him com-
pany but his spirit playing merry tricks for to please him.
Not far from Faustus' house lived the Duke of Bavaria, the
Duke of Saxony, and the Bishop of Salisburgh, whose houses
and cellars Mephistopheles used to visit, and to bring the
best of everything they had. One day the Duke of Bavaria
invited most of the gentry of the country to dinner, for
whose entertainment there was abundance of provision got
ready. The gentry being come, and ready to sit down
to dinner, in an instant Mephistopheles came and took
all away with him, leaving them full of admiration. If any
time Faustus had a mind for wild fowl, the spirit would call


THE HISTORY OF DR. FAUSTUS. 293
calling his spirit to help him, he in an instant fastened a
large pair of horns upon the lord's head, that he could not
get his head in till Faustus took off the horns again, which
were soon taken off invisibly. The lord whom Faustus
served so was extremely vexed, and resolved to be revenged
on the doctor, and to that end lay a mile out of town for
Faustus' passing by, he being that day to depart for the
country. Faustus coming by a wood side, beheld that lord
mounted upon a mighty warlike horse, who ran full drift
against Faustus, who, by the assistance of his spirit, took
him and all, and carried before the Emperor's palace, and
grafted a pair of horns on his head as big as an ox's, which
he could never be rid of, but wore them to his dying day.
Chapter VIII.
How Faustus ate a load of Hay.
Faustus upon a time having many doctors and masters of
arts with him, went to walk in the fields, where they met
with a load of hay. "How now, good fellow," saith Faustus,
"what shall I give thee to fill my belly with hay?" The
clown thought he had been a madman to talk of eating hay,
told him he should fill his belly for one penny, to which the
doctor agreed, and then fell to eating, and quickly devouring
half of the load; at which the doctor's companions laughed,
to see how simply the poor country fellow looked, and to
hear how heartily he prayed the doctor to forbear. So
Faustus pitying the poor man, went away, and before the
man got near his house all the hay was in the cart that the
doctor had eaten, which made the country fellow very much
admire.
Chapter IX.
How he struck a parcel of Students, who were fighting
together, blind; and how he served a parcel of Clowns
who were singing and ranting at an inn.
Thirteen students meeting with seven more near Dr.
Faustus' house, fell to, extremely, first in words and at last to


294 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
blows. The thirteen being too hard for the seven, and Dr.
Faustus looking out at his window and seeing the fra)7, and
how much they were overmatched, conjured them all blind,
so that the one could not see the other, and in this manner
they fought one another, which made all that saw them
laugh. At length the people parted them, and led them to
their chambers, they instantly received their sight. The
doctor coming into an inn with some friends, was disturbed
by the hallowing and bawling of a parcel of drunken clowns,
whereupon, when their mouths were wide open, he so con-
jured them, that by no means they could shut them again:
and after they had stared one upon another, without being
able to speak, thinking they were bewitched, they dropped
away in a confused fear, one by one, and never could be got
to the house afterwards.
Chapter X.
How Faustus helped a Young Man to a Fair Lady.
There was a gallant young gentleman who was in love with
a fair lady, living at Wurtemberg, near the doctor's house.
This gentleman had long sought this lady in marriage, but
could not attain his desire, and having placed his affections
so much upon her, he was ready to pine away, and had cer-
tainly died with grief, had he not made his address to the
doctor, to whom he opened the whole matter. Now no
sooner had the gentleman told his cause to the doctor, but
he told him that he need not be afraid, for his desire should
be fulfilled, and that he should have her whom he so much
desired, and that this gentlewoman should have none but
him, which was accordingly done, for the doctor so changed
her mind that she could think of nothing else but him whom
before she hated; and Faustus' desire was this: He gave
him an enchanted ring which he ordered him to put into the
lady's hand, or to slip it on her finger, which he did; and
no sooner had she got the ring than her heart burned with
love to him. She, instead of frowns, could do nothing but


THE HISTORY OF Dlt. FAUSTUS. 295
smile upon him, and not be at rest till she asked him if he
thought he could love her, and make her his wife? He
gladly answered with all his heart. So they were married
the next day, and all by the help of Dr. Faustus.
Chapter XI.
How Faustus made Seven Women dance naked in the
Market-place.
Faustus walking in the market-place, saw seven women
sitting all in a row, selling eggs, butter, etc. Of every one
he bought something and departed. No sooner was he gone
but all the eggs and butter were gone out of their baskets,
and they knew not how. At last they were told that Dr.
Fanstus had conjured their ggpds away. They thereupon
ran speedily to the doctor's house, and so demanded satis-
faction for the ware. He resolving to make himself and the
town's people merry by his conjuring art, made them return
to their baskets naked as ever they were born; and having
danced a while in the market-place every one's goods were
conjured into their baskets again, and they set at liberty.
Chapter XII.
How Faustus served a Country Fellow who was driving
Swine.
Dr. Faustus, as he was going to Wurtemberg, overtook a
country fellow driving a hundred swine, who were very
headstrong, some running one waj' and some another; so
that the driver could not tell how to get them drove along.
The doctor taking notice of it, so by his conjuring art he
made every one of them dance upon their two hind legs,
with a fiddle in one of their fore feet, and with the other fore
foot they played upon the fiddle, and so they danced and
fiddled all the way until they came into Wurtemberg
market, the driver of them dancing all the way before them,
which made the people wonder. After the doctor had satis-
fied himself with the spirit he conjured all of the fiddles
away, and the driver then offered them for sale, and quickly


298
AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
he spoken these words, but suddenly it fell a thundering
and lightning, the like was never heard; whereupon Faustus
went into the great hall, the doctors and masters staying in
the next room intending to hear his end. About twelve
o'clock the house shook so terribly that they thought it
would have been down upon them, and suddenly the house
windows were broken to pieces, so that they trembled and
wished themselves elsewhere, whereupon a great clap of
thunder, with a whirlwind the doors flew open, and a
mighty rushing of wind entered with the hissing of serpents,
shrieks and cries, upon which he lamentably cried out
"Murder," and there was such roaring in the hall as if all
the devils in hell had been there. When daylight appeared
they took the boldness to enter into'the room, and found his
brains beaten out against the wall and the floor sprinkled
with blood; but missing his body, they went in search of it,
and found it on the dunghill mangled and mashed to pieces.
So ended this miserable wretch's life, forsaking God and all
goodness, and given up to his implacable enemy, which we
hope may stand not only as a fearful, but lasting monument
and warning to others.


300 AMUSING PROSE'CHAP-BOOKS.
Chapter II.
Of her being placed in Westminster, and what she did at
her Place.
The carrier, having set up his horses, went with the lasses to
the Eagle in Westminster, and told the landlady he had
brought her three fine Lancashire lasses; and seeing she
often asked him to get her a maid, she might now take her
choice. "Marry," said she, " I want one at present, and here
are three gentlemen who shall give their opinions." As soon
as Meg came in they blessed themselves, crying,
"Domine, Domine, viee Originem."
So her mistress demanded what was her name. "Margaret,
forsooth," said she briskly. "And what work can you do?"
She answered she had not been bred unto her needle, but to
hard labour, as washing, brewing, and baking, and could
make a house clean. '' Thou art," quoth the hostess, "a
lusty wench, and I like thee well, for I have often persons
that will not pay." "Mistress," said she, "if auy such come
let me know, and I'll make them pay I'll engage." "Nay,
this is true," said the carrier, "for my carcase felt it;" and
then he told them how she served him. On this Sir John
de Castile, in a bravado, would needs make an experiment
of her vast strength ; and asked her "if she durst exchange
a box o' the ear with him." "Yes," quoth she, "if my mis-
tress will give me leave." This granted, she stood to receive
Sir John's blow, who gave her a box with all his might, but
it stirred her not at all; but Meg gave him such a memoran-
dum on his ear that Sir John fell down at her feet. "By my
faith," said another, "she strikes a blow like an ox, for she
hath knocked down an ass." So Meg was taken into service.
Chapter III.
The method Meg took to make one of the Vicars pay his
Score.
Meq so bestirred herself that she pleased her mistress, and
for her tallness was called Long Meg of Westminster.


THE LIFE AND DEATH OF LONG MEG.
303
At this they all fell a-laughing. Nevertheless, at supper
time, according to agreement, Sir James was a proper page;
and she, having leave of her mistress, sat in state like her
majesty. Thus Sir James was disgraced for his love, and
Meg was counted a proper woman.
Chapter V.
Her Usage to the Bailiff of Westminster, who came into
her Mistress's and arrested her Friend.
A bailiff, having for the purpose took forty shillings,
arrested a gentleman in Meg's mistress's house, and desired
the company to keep peace. She, coming in, asked what
was the matter. "O," said he, " I'm aiTested." "Arrested!
and in our house? Why this unkind act to arrest one in
our house; but, however, take an angel and let him go."
"No," said the bailiff, "I cannot, for the creditor is at the
door." "Bid him come in," said she, "and I'll make up the
matter." So the creditor came in; but, being found obsti-
nate, she rapped him on the head with a quart pot and bid
him go out of doors like a knave. "He can but go to
prison," quoth she, "where he shall not stay long if all the
friends I have can fetch him out."
The creditor went away with a good knock, and the bailiff
was going with his prisoner. "Nay," said she, " I'll bring a
fresh pot to drink with him." She came into the parlour
with a rope, and, knitting her brows, "Sir Knave," said she,
"I'll learn thee to arrest a man in our house. I'll make thee
a spectacle for all catchpoles;" and, tossing the rope round
his middle, said to the gentleman, "Sir, away, shift for your-
self; I'll pay the bailiff his fees before he and. I part."
Then she dragged the bailiff unto the back side of the house,
making him go up to his chin in a pond, and then paid him
his fees with a cudgel, after which he went away with the
amends in his hands, for she was so well beloved that no
person would meddle with. her.


304 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Chapter VI.
Of her meeting with a Nobleman, and her Usage to
him and to the Watch.
Now it happened she once put on a suit of man's apparel.
The same night it fell out that a young nobleman, being dis-
posed for mirth, would go abroad to see the fashions, and,
coming down the Strand, espies her; and, seeing such a tall
fellow, asked him whither he was going. "Marry," said
she, " to St. Nicholas's to buy a calve's head." "How much
money hast thou?" "In faith," said she, "little enough;
will you lend me any?" "Aye," said he; and, putting his
thumb into her mouth, said, "There's a tester." She gave
him a good box on the ear, and said, " There's a groat; now
I owe you twopence." Whereupon the nobleman drew, and
his man too; and she was as active as they, so together
they go. But she drove them before her into a little
chandler's shop, insomuch that the constable came in to part
the fray, and, having asked what they were, the nobleman
told his name, at which they all pulled off their caps.
"And what is your name?" said the constable. "Mine,"
said she, " is Cuthbert Curry Knave." Upon this the con-
stable commanded some to lay hold on her and carry her to
the compter. She out with her sword and set upon the
watch, and behaved very resolutely; but the constable call-
ing for clubs, Meg was forced to cry out, "Masters, hold
your hands, I am your friend; hurt not Long Meg of West-
minster." So they all stayed their hands, and the nobleman
took them all to the tavern; and thus ended the fray.
Chapter VII.
Meg goes a shroving, fights the Thieves of St. James's
Corner, and makes them restore Father Willis,
the Carrier, his hundred marks.
Not only the cities of London and Westminster, but Lanca-
shire also, rung of Meg's fame, so they desired old Willis, the


THE LIFE AND DEATH OF JLONG MEG. 307
And at the sally she came out the foremost with her halberd
in her hand to pursue the chase.
The report of this deed being come to the ears of the king,
he allowed her for life eightpence a day.
Chapter X.
Of her figlvting and beating a Frenchman before Boulogne.
During this she observed one who in a bravado tossed his
pike. She, seeing his pride, desired a drum to signify that
a young soldier would have a push at pike with him. It
was agreed on, and the place appointed life against life.
On the day the Frenchman came, and Meg met him, and
without any salute fell to blows; and, after a long combat,
she overcame him, and cut off his head. Then, pulling off
her hat, her hair fell about her ears.
By this the Frenchman knew it was a woman, and the
English giving a shout, she, by a drummer, sent the Dauphin
his soldier's head, and said, "An English woman sent it."
The Dauphin much commended her, sending her a
hundred crowns for her valour.
Chapter XI.
Of her coming to England and being Married.
The wars in France being over, Meg came to Westminster
and married a soldier, who, hearing of her exploits, took her
into a room, and, making her strip to her petticoat, took one
staff and gave her another, saying, "As he had heard of her
manhood, he was determined to try her." But Meg held
down her head, whereupon he gave her three or four blows,
and she in submission fell down upon her knees desiring him
to pardon her. "For," said she, "whatever I do to others,
it behoves me to be obedient to you; and it shall never be
said, if I cudgel a knave that injures me, Long Meg is her
husband's master; and therefore use me as you please." So
they grew friends, and never quarrelled after.


THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF FRIAR BACON. 309
Thirdly. If any good fellow came in and said he wanted
money, he should have his belly full of meat and two pots of
drink.
Fourthly. If any raffler came in and made a quarrel, and
would not pay his reckoning, to turn into the fields and take
a bout or two with Meg, the maids of the house should dry
beat him, and so thrust him out of doors.
These and many such principles she established in her
house, which kept it still and quiet.
THE
FAMOUS HISTORY
OF THE LEARNED
FRI AR BACON
GIVING
A Particular Account of his Birth, Parentage,
with the many Wonderful Things he did in his Lifetime,
to the amazement of all the World.
Chapter I.
Friar Bacon's Birth and Parentage, and by what means
he came to be so great a Scholar. How the King sent
for him from Oxford, and in what wonderful manner he
pleased the King's Five Senses; also the Comical
Franks he played with a Courtier sent to fetch him.
The famous Friar Bacon, whose name has spread through
the world, was born in Lancashire; his father's name was
Ralph Bacon, and his name Roger. From his infancy


310 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
he was observed to have a profound, pregnant wit; as he
grew up, a great reader of books and desirous of learning,
which to admiration he took so fast that his schoolmaster
could teach him no further, and being about to send him
home, with commendations, to his father, he, fearing the
worst, humbly besought him to prevail, if possible, with his
father that he might be sent to the University, where
he had a desire to go and learn the liberal sciences.
His schoolmaster denied him not his request, but went
home with him, and, taking the old man aside, told him he
had learned his son as far as he was able, that he took it in
extremely well, and was willing to improve it at the
University, and that he was verily persuaded, by the
promptness he perceived in him, if he would be at a little
charge with him there, he would be so great a proficient as
would advance him to an eminent station.
The old man heard this with some indignation, but con-
cealed his anger till the schoolmaster was gone, and then,
taking his son to task, said, "How now, sirrah! have not I
been at cost enough already, but are you itching to put me
to more? Methinks I have given you such learning as to
enable you, in time, to be a constable or churchwarden of
the parish, and far outdo those in the office that can neither
read nor write; let that suffice. As for the rest of your
business for the future, it is to learn horse language and
whistle well, that you may be dexterous at driving the
plough and cart and managing the sheep and oxen; for,
sirrah," continued he, "have I anybody else to leave my
farm to but you, and yet you take upon you, forsooth, to be
a scholard, and consequently a gentleman; for they all
profess themselves so, though never so beggarly, living
lazily, and eating up the fat of other men's labours, marry
gaup! Goodman Twoshoes, your great-grandfather, your
grandfather, and I, have thought it no scorn to dig and
delve; and pray what better are you than us? Here,


312 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
rode over hedge and ditch, backwards and forwards, till the
charm was dissolved.
When the friar came into the king's presence he did him
obeisance, and was kindly welcomed by him. Then said
the king, "Worthy Bacon, having heard much of your
fame, the cause of my sending for you was to be a spectator
of some fine curiosities in your art." The friar excused
at first; but the king pressing it, promised on his royal
word no harm should come to him, be bid all keep silence,
and, waving his magic wand, there presently to their great
amazement, ensued the most melodious music they had ever
heard, which continued very iavishing for nearly half
an hour. Then, waving his "wand, another kind of music
was heard, and presently dancers in antic shapes at a
masquerade entered the room, and having danced incom-
parably well, they vanished. Waving his wand the third
time, louder music was heard, and whilst that played, a
table was placed by an invisible hand, richly spread with
all the dainties that could be thought of. Then he desired
the king and queen to draw their seats near, and partake of
the repast he had prepared for their highnesses: which,
after they had done, all vanished. He waved the fourth
time, and thereupon the place was perfumed with all the
sweeta of Arabia, or that the whole world could produce.
Then waving the fifth time, there came in Russians,
Persians, and Folanders, dressed in the finest soft fur, silks,
and downs of rare fowls, that are to be found in the
universe, which he bid them feel, and then the strangers,
having danced after their own country fashion, vanished.
In this sort Friar Bacon pleased their five senses, to their
admiration and high satisfaction; so that the king offered
him money, but he refused it, saying he could not take it.
However, the king pressed on him a jewel of great value,
commanding him to wear it as a mark of his favour.
Whilst this was doing, the gentleman of the bedchamber


THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF FRIAR BACON. 313
came in, puffing and blowing, all bemired and dirty, and
his face and hands scratched with the bushes and briars.
The king, at this sight, demanded why he stayed so long,
and how he came in that condition ?" Oh, plague," said
he, " take Friar Bacon and all his devils! they have led me
a fine dance, to the endangering of my neck. But is the
dog here? I'll be revenged on him!" Then he laid his
hand on his sword, but Bacon, waving his wand, charmed
it in his scabbard, so he could not draw it out, saying, " I
fear not your anger; 'tis best for you to be quiet, lest a
worse thing befall you." Then he told the king how he
gave him the lie, when he told him he would be there
before him.
Whilst he was thus speaking, in came the cook-maid,
brought by a spirit, at the window, with a spit and a'
roasted shoulder of mutton on it, being thus surprised
as she was taking it from the fire; and wishfully staring
about her, and espying the gentleman, she cried, "O my
sweet knight, are you here? Pray,sir, rememberyou promised
to provide linen and other necessaries for me. Our secret
sins have grown, and I've two months to reckon," and
hereupon she ran towards him to embrace him; but he
turning aside, she was carried out at another window to
her master's house again.
This was the cause of both amazement and laughter,
though the gentleman was much ashamed and confounded
to be thus exposed, still muttering revenge; but Friar
Bacon told him his best way was to put up all, since he
had verified all his promises, and bid him have a care how
he gave a scholar the lie again.
The king and queen, well pleased with the entertain-
ment, highly commending his art, and promising him
their favour and protection, took their leave of the friar,
returning to Loudon, and he to his study at Brazen Nose
College.


314 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Chapter II.
How Friar Bacon put a Comical Trick upon his man Miles,
who, pretending Abstinence on a Fast Day, concealed
Victuals in his Pocket to eat in a Corner.
Friar Bacon kept a roan to wait on him who, though but
a simple fellow, yet a merry droll and full of waggeries.
His name was Miles, and though his master and those
of the order often fasted on set days, Miles loved his guts
too well to pinch them, and though outwardly he seemed to
fast for compliance, he always kept a private reserve to eat
in a corner, which Bacon knew by art, and resolved to put
a trick upon him. It so happened on Good Friday, in Lent,
a strict fast was held, and Miles seemed very devout; for
when his master bid him, however, take a bit of bread and
a sip of wine early in the morning to keep him from
fainting, he refused it, saying he was a great sinner, and
therefore ought to do more than this for his mortification, and
to gain, absolution, making a great many pretences of sanctity,
and how well he was inclined to keep the holy fast. "Tis
well," said the friar, " if I catch you not tripping." Here-
upon Miles went to his cell, pretending to pray, but indeed
to eat a fine pudding he had concealed: which he had no
sooner put into his mouth at one end, but it stuck there;
he could neither eat it nor get it out. The use of his hands
failed, and he was taken with a shivering all over, so that,
thinking he should have died presently, he cried piteously
out for help; whereupon Friar Bacon, calling the scholars
together, went in to see what was the matter, and per-
ceiving him in that plight said, smiling, " Now I see what
a penitent servant I have, who was so conscientious he
would not touch a bit of bread, but would willingly have
devoured two pounds of pudding to have broke his fast."
He piteously entreated him to dissolve the charm and
deliver him, and he would never do so again. "Nay," said
the friar, " you shall do penance for this "; so, taking hold


THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF FRIAR BACON. 317
aud they, with much ceremony, took leave of each other.
The gentleman laughed in his sleeve to think how he would
find him out, seeing he had not asked, nor himself told him,
where he lived.
Soon after he summoned all his creditors, paid them to a
farthing, redeemed his land, went gallant, and recovered
his esteem in the world; but one evening as he was looking
over his writings in his closet, he heard somebody rap at
the door, when, opening it, he saw the party he had
borrowed the money of, with the writing in his hand, who
told him he was now come to demand him, and he must
now go along with him; for to his knowledge he had paid
his debts, and done whatever was agreed to. The gentle-
man, wondering how he should know this so soon, denied
it. "Nay," replied he, fiercely, "deny it not, for I'll not be
cheated of my bargain," and thereupon changed into a
horrible shape, struck him almost dead with fear, for now
he perceived it was the devil. Then he told him if he did
not meet on the morrow^ in the same place he had lent him
the money, he would come the next day and tear him
to pieces. "And," says he, " if I prove not what I say, you
shall be quiet"; and so vanished out of the window in a
flash of flame, with horrible bellowings. The gentleman,
seeing himself in this case, began to weep bitterly, and
wished he had been contented in his sad condition, rather
than have taken such a desperate way to enrich himself,
and was almost at his wits' end.
Friar Bacon, knowing by his art what had passed, came to
comfort him, and having heard the whole story, bid him
not despair, but pray and repent of his sins, and he would
contrive to show the devil a trick that should release him
from his obligation. This greatly comforted the gentleman,
and he promised to do whatever the friar should order hiui.
"Then," says he, "meet at the time appointed, and I
will be near. Offer to put the decision of the controversy
21


THE FAMOUS HISTORY OF FRIAR BACON. 321
thunder almost spent, the head spoke distinctly, "Time IS."
"Oh ho 1" says Miles, "is this all the news you can tell me?
Well, copper nose, has my master taken all this pains
about you, and you can speak no wiser? Dost thou think
I am such a fool to break his sweet slum for this? No,
speak wiser, or he shall sleep on. Time is, quotha I Why,
I know time is, and that thou shalt hear, goodman
kettle jaws.
"Time is for some to gain,
Time is for some to lose;
Time is for some to hand,
But then they cannot choose.
Time is to go a score,
Time is when one should pay:
Time is to reckon, too,
But few care for that day.
Timo is to graft the born
Upon another's head;
Time is to make maids' hearts swell,
Oh, then 'tis time they're wed.
"Hear'st thou this, goodman copper nose? We scholars
know when time is, without thy babbling. We know
when time is to drink good sack, eat well, kiss our hostesses*
and run on the score. But when time is to pay them is
indeed but seldom."
While thus he merrily discoursed, about half an hour
after the same noise began as before, and the head
said, ".Time was." "Well," said Miles, "this blockish head
is the foolishest thing my wise master ever troubled himself
about. How would he have laughed, had he been here, to
hear it prat so simply! Therefore, thou brazen-faced ass,
speak wiser, or I shall never trouble my head to awake him.
Time was, quotha! thou ass thou! I know that, and so


32 2 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
thou shalt hear, for I find my master has watched and
tutored thee to a fine purpose.
"Time was when thou, a kettle,
Was wont to hold good matter;
But Friar Bacon did thee spoil
When he thy sides did batter.
Time was when conscience dwelt
With men of each vocation;
Time was when lawyers did not thrive
So well by men's vexations.
Time was when chnrity
Was not denied a being;
Time was when office kept no knaves;
That time was worth the seeing.
"Ay, ay, and time was for many other things. But what
of that, goodman brazen face? I see my master has placed
me here on a very foolish account. I think I'd as good go to
sleep, too, as to stay watching here to no purpose." Whilst
he thus scoffed and taunted, the head spoke a third time,
and said, "Time is past!" and so, with a horrid noise, fell
down and broke to pieces. Whereupon ensued lamentable
shrieks and cries, flashes of fire, and a rattling as of
thunder, which awaking the two friars, they came running
in, in great disorder found Miles rolling on the floor, in
a stinking pickle, almost dead with fear, and the head lying
shattered about the room in a thousand pieces. Then,
having brought him to his senses again, they demanded how
this came. "Nay, the devil knows better than I," said
Miles, "I believe he was in this plaguy head: for when it
fell, it gave a bounce like a cannon." "Wretch that thou
art!" said Bacon, "trifle not with my impatience. Didst
thou hear it speak, varlet! answer me that."
"Why, truly," said Miles, " it did speak, but very simply,


324 AMUSIN0 PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
THE HISTORY
or
THE BLIND BEGGAR
OF BETHNAL GREEN,
CONTAINING
His Birth and Parentage; how he went to the Wars and
Lost his Sight, and turned Beggar at Bethnal Green;
how he got Riches, and educated his Daughter; of her
heing Courted by a rich, young Knight; how the Blind
Beggar dropt Gold with the Knight's Uncle; of the
Knight and the Beggar's Daughter being Married;
and, lastly, how the famous Pedigree of the Beggar was
discovered, with other Things worthy of Note.
Chapter I.
How Monford went to the Wars of France, where he lost his
Sight; how he was accompanied with his Wife, who
'jrreserved his Life, and of his Return to England, etc.
In former days, when the rose of England eclipsed the
lilies of France, and true English valour made that nation
stoop, among other brave gallants that went over to try
thoir fortune, Monford was one, a person well descended,
who, being naturally inclined to war and greedy of fame,
neither the entreaty of friends nor the marriage he had
contracted with a kind, beautiful woman, could alter his
purpose; but taking his wife Margaret with him, he, with
miiny hundreds more, crossed the seas, and with the help of
a prosperous wind, arriving at Calais, marched to the royal


The BLIND BEGGAR of BETHNAL GREEN. 3.25
standard, accompanied with his loving wife, who, in man-
like attire, became his inseparable companion, and was the
cause of saving his life; for many skirmishes happened
between the English and French, wherein young Monford
behaved himself with wondrous courage; and in one,
following too hot the pursuit, was, with divers others,
entrapped into ambush, late in the evening; and though he
manfully disputed it, making great slaughter of the enemy,
yet in spite of resistance he was beaten from his horse by a
forcible stroke, and left in the field for dead among the
dying men; where he had undoubtedly perished through
loss of blood, and the anguish of his wounds, had not his
tender-hearted love, upon hearing what had happened and
his not returning, hasted to the field, where, among the
slain, she by moonlight discovered him, stripped and
struggling for life, and by the help of a servant brought
him to a shepherd's cottage, where she carefully dressed his
wounds and administered such cordials as brought him to
himself, to her unspeakable joy; though this joy was some-
thing abated when she found he had lost his sight, but true
love working in her heart, the alteration or disfigurement of
his countenance did not alter her affection; but comforting
him in the best manner she could, though his natural
courage would not admit of any dejection, she procured him
a homely suit of apparel, and brought him (unfit for service)
back to England, of whose entertainment and settlement at
Bethnal Green, in the county of Middlesex, and course of
life, you shall hear in the following chapter.
CHAPTER II.
How Monford arrived in England and of the Cold
Entertainment he found among his relations.
How he settled in Bethnal Green, where he continued to beg
for his Living.
Monford, having escaped a dreadful storm at sea, landed
with his wife on the coast of Essex, where he had some


326 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
considerable relations, to whom, in his necessity, they
applied themselves for succour; but they, who, after the
death of his parents, had wasted much of his patrimony,
or fearing he might be chargeable to them, would not know
him, and those that were convinced he was the same
Monford that went over to France gave him but cold enter-
tainment; insomuch that, scorning to rely upon their
charity, he told his wife that he intended, early in the
morning, to haste towards London, and tliat he would
rather trust to Providence than the ingratitude of those
who, in his prosperous days, had caressed him. His wife
declared she would labour at her spinning-wheel or do what
she was capable for a living. In two days travelling they
spent what little money they had saved, so necessity obliged
them to ask charity of the people as he passed through the
country towns and villages; who, understanding that he came
by his misfortune in fighting for the honour of his country,
gave liberally to him; and considering that the loss of his
sight had rendered him incapable of business, he resolved to
embrace what providence had cast in his way, which was
to live upon charity. Whereupon, arriving at Bethnal
Green, near London, he hired a small cottage for his wife
and himself, and daily appearing publicly to crave alms,
was from thence called "The Beggar of Bethnal Green,"
and in a short time found it a thriving trade, insomuch
that his bed of straw was changed into down, and his
earthen platters and other utensils into a better sort of
decent furniture.
Chapter III.
How Movford happened to meet with Snap, an old,
experienced Beggar, who gave him an Insight
into the Mystery of the Canting Tribe; and how he
invited him to the Rendezvous.
Monford resolving in this kind of way to spend the
remainder of his days, being very well contented with his


328 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-HOOKS.
• Chapter V.
What Success he had in the Begging Trade. How his
Wife was brought to Bed of a Daughter, and
Christened by the Name of Elizabeth.
The blind beggar soon became master of his trade, and, by
the help of his dog, trudged often to London, and having
the perfect tone, had the luck to return with his pockets
well lined with chink. His way of begging became so
pleasing to him that he would often sing as follows—
A beggar lives a merry life,
And has both wealth and ease;
His days are free from care and strife,
He does whate'er he please.
While others labour, sweat, and toil,
His tongue does get him pelf;
He travels with his dog and bell,
And brings home store of wealth.
He being by this time in a warm condition, to add
further to his joy, his loving wife fell in labour, and was
delivered of a daughter, whose birth made him think he
was the happiest man alive, and hundred times he kissed
her and dandled her in his arms, whom he christened by
the name of Elizabeth, and as she increased in years, so her
beauty and modesty caused her to be called "Pretty Betty."
Some began to dote upon her admirable perfections, and the
better to qualify her gave her such learning as was suitable
to her degree, which she improved; so that her beauty and
wit, her skill in singing, dancing, and playing on instru-
ments of music, procured her the envy of the young
maidens thereabouts, who supposed themselves much superior
in birth and fortune, would often reflect upon her birth, and
call her a beggar's brat. She bore all their ill language
without returning it, and endeavoured to win them to her


THE BLIND BEGGAR OF BETHNAL GREEN. 331
enjoyment, found herself obliged to take a course that
might rid her of her lovers, or allot one of them to her
share; wherefore she told them she was not really at her
own disposal, her parents being alive; therefore, if they
loved her as they said, and seeing but one could enjoy her,
she was contented her father should choose one for her, of
whose choice she would approve.
This set them almost at daggers drawing, who should get
thither first, but whither to go they knew not, therefore
desired to be informed, every one's heart being filled with
joy, not doubting to carry the prize; when thus she
began:—"My parents, worthy sirs, live on Bethnal Green.
My father is left with a dog and a bell, living upon the
charity of good people, and my mother a poor woman that
spins for bread. Thus I have declared to you my parents,
and though I might have the richest person in the world
for a husband, yet I would not marry him without their
consent, which I think myself bound in duty to obtain."
Most of her suitors seemed thunderstruck at this plain
declaration, every one, except the knight, despising her
now as much as they seemed to love her before, each of
them swearing they would not undervalue themselves to
marry a beggar's child. But the knight was more inflamed
than ever, and having a large estate, did not regard interest
or a portion so much as he did the pleasing of his fancy
with a beautiful, modest, young, and virtuous maid, all of
which centred in Pretty Betty. Therefore, after he had
paused a while took the blushing virgin by the hand, and
said, " You see, fair creature, how they that pretended to
love you did it only in expectation of your being descended
from wealthy parents, and that they might get a large
portion. Though they have left you, if you will accept
of me for a husband, who truly love you on account
of your virtue and beauty, I will make you my wife and
settle on you a jointure." To this she replied, " Alas, sir, I


THE BLIND BEGGAR OF BKTHNAL GREEN. 333
which he granted, and, dismissing them, kept on his way
till, coming to the old man's door, they alighted; which
made him, upon hearing the noise of horses trampling, being
a thing very unusual, start from the fire, and put his head
out of the window, and not understanding the meaning of
it, ere the knight's uncle came puffing and blowing at a
strange rate crying, "Why, how now nephew? what's this
I hear of you? Are you mad to disgrace your family by
marrying a beggar's brat? For shame, for shame! consider
better than to make yourself a laughing stock to the world
by such an unseemly match." Then, turning about to
Pretty Betty, said, "Pray how came this about, you
baggage you? But, however, I say, nephew, leave her and
come along with me and I will provide a rich wife for you
suitable to your condition."
To this the young knight would have replied, but the
blind beggar Monford, not being able to bear his taunts and
reproaches any longer, said, "I cannot see you at all, but
sir, whatever you are I hear you too much, and more than
becomes a civil gentleman; nor do I count my girl so mean
to suffer her to be railed on at my door; therefore, pray sir,
hold your prating, or I shall fell you with my staff. I have
seen the day when a taller fellow than you durst not put
me in a passion. If your kinsman does not think my child
a fit match for him, let him let her alone and welcome. I
am satisfied she hath her share of beauty and good breeding,
and those are enough to recommend her. But know, sir,
that I, her father, am willing and ready to lay down as
many guineas for my child as you are to drop for your
nephew, and therefore care not how soon you begin." The
knight's uncle was something surprised at this speech of the
blind beggar's; but, however, he accepted of the challenge,
and sent to London for a bag of gold. As soon as it was
brought, Monford pulled out two large cat skins stuffed with
gold from under a bundle of rags, whereby it appeared his
'22


334 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
trade had been advantageous. Both parties being ready,
they rained a golden shower so plentifully that the gentle-
man's stock failed him. and the beggar, not hearing it
chink, fell into laughter and said, " How, sir, is your money
done so soon? I thought at first you had more words than
money. Pray, for your credit's sake, try your friends, for
I have three or four cat skins with golden puddings in
their bellies yet." "Indeed," said the gentleman, "I am
content to own you have outdone me, and think you have
the philosopher's stone, or keep a familiar to bring it to you
from the golden mountain. But seeing the world goes so
well with you, I shall no further go about to persuade my
nephew from being your son-in-law, but beg pardon for
what I have done." "Oh, do you so," said the beggar,
"then may things be better, perhaps, than you expect."
Then, turning to the knight, "Gather up," said he, "the
loose coin I have scattered, and here's a cat skin filled
which will make up the sum of three thousand pounds,
beside a hundred more to buy her a wedding gown. Take
this as her present portion, and, as you behave yourself,
expect more hereafter. I give her to you, and with her a
blessing. Go to church and be married, in God's name,
and I wish you both success and prosperity." When he
had thus spoken, the knight and bride fell upon their
knees, and gave him a thousand thanks and departed,
whilst those that had been suitors, hearing what had
happened, were ready to hang themselves for madness.
Chapter IX.
How Pretty Betty was Married to the Knight, and her
true Pedigree discovered.
Things being come to pass, great preparations were made
for the wedding. The bride and bridegroom were dressed
in rich apparel, and as soon as the ceremony was ended
they went to the place appointed for keeping their wedding


THE BLIND BEGGAR OF BETHNAL GREEN. 335
dinner. Hither resorted abundance of persons of distinction,
who had been invited, yet none of them surpassed the bride
in modesty and beauty. At length her father and mother
came in, dressed in silks and embroidered velvets. The
company was pleased with the entertainment, which was
very costly, and when the music, dancing, and masquerading
was ended, the old man Monford sung a song, wherein he
discovered his pedigree and his valour in the wars of
France, which also filled the company full of admiration.
OLD MONFORD'S SONG.
You gallants all, that here are come
To make this day more happy prove;
Know, though I'm blind, I am not dumb,
But wish you happiness and love.
The bride, although her birth seems mean,
Is born of a noble race;
Her predecessors great have been,
If you her pedigree do trace.
Know she is Monford's daughter fair,
"Who lost his sight in the wars of France,
Who ever since, in begging here,
Did take this happy, thriving chance.
Consider, bridegroom, then her birth,
Which some think mean and low,
As much of honour can bring forth
As you have power to show.
The name of Monford, which had been held so famous for
virtue and valour in those days, did not a little cause
wonder in the hearers, who, desiring him to explain himself,
and give the company a particular account of all his adven-
tures from his youth till the present time, and immediately
a, profound silence ensued, the noble company sitting in


336 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
full expectation of being diverted with the surprising
achievements and glorious exploits of old Monford, especi-
ally his son-in-law, who was more desirous than all the
rest to hear this seemingly so much pleasing relation, and his
beautiful bride was no less anxious to hear more of her pedi-
gree; for till now she had been kept in the dark with regard
to her high birth. Monford, hearing all were silent, begun to
relate first, his marriage; second, his going over to France,
accompanied by his beloved spouse, his adventures there;
and, lastly, how he lost his sight in an engagement, with
his return to England, and the success he had by begging;
all which caused a general joy, since those who had
formerly known him by that name supposed him to be
dead; and the bridegroom was pronounced now more happy
than ever, whose lovely bride in both birth and fortune
equalled his in all degrees, and her father, for the credit of
his daughter, promised to leave off his begging trade and
live upon what he had got. This day was concluded to the
joy and satisfaction of all parties.


*
-
Poor Robin THE MERRY SADDLER of WALDEN. 337
THE
PLEASANT HISTORY
or
P O O R. R O B I N
The
MERRY SADDLER or walDEN
showing
The Merry Pranks he played during his Apprenticeship,
and how he Tricked a rich Miser, etc.
Very diverting for a Winter Evening Fireside.
Chapter I.
The birth of Poor Robin, how he was bound Apprentice to
a Saddler, and what a trick he served his Master.
Poor Robin was born in Saffron-Walden, in the county of
Essex, of honest, plain parents, who brought him up not as
our nice dames do now-a-days, by directing him how much
he should eat, but, as the fashion was then, full fed with
gross meat, so that in a few years he grew a sturdy lad;
and considering his growth and manners, a man might well
say better fed than taught. His father being willing he
should be able to live in the world another day, bound him
an apprentice to a Saddler, one who fitted poor Robin's
humour to a hair; for the master loving drink, he thought
it should go hard if the man likewise did not also wet his


338 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
lips with it . It fortuned one time his master had brewed a
barrel of beer stronger than ordinary, to the drinking of
• which poor Robin one night invites five or six of his com-
rades, who, before the next morning, drank it all up. Poor
Robin to excuse himself, draws the spiggot out, and throws
a pailful of small beer and two or three pails full of water
under the tap, and by a wile gets a great sow into the
cellar; so the next morning when his master arose all was
quiet, and the sow was blamed for what the boar pig had
done.
Chapter II.
How Poor Robin served his Master for sitting up late at
Nights.
Poor Robin's master had gotten a custom that the man did
not at all like, which was, that after he had tippled all day,
sometimes till ten or eleven o'clock at night, he would then
come home and fall asleep in a chair, during which time his
man must not go to bed, but wait until his master awakened.
Poor Robin to break him of this evil custom, one night when
his master came home soundly fuddled, and falling asleep in
his chair as usual; so he made a great fire, and then drew
his master's legs so near thereto, that his toes touched some
of the coals; which being done, he sits him down in the
other corner to observe the sequel. He had not sat long till
his master's shoes began to fry, whereupon he suddenly
awakes, and jumps about as if he had been mad. The man
all the while counterfeits himself asleep, and seemed not to
awake for a good space. At last, seeming much to pity his
master's misfortune, they went to bed. But never after
that would his master sit up to sleep in his chair.
Chapter III.
How Poor Rabin served a rich Miser.
In the same town lived a rich miser who had wealth enough
to have been treasurer of the town, and wisdom answerable.


340 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
language betwixt them, made this epigram to be read by
any that can understand it.
Poor Robin thinks his wife excels most dames,
And calls her duck and lamb, with such kind names,
A duck's a bird, a lamb's a beast we know,
Poor Robin's wife's a foul beast then I trow.
Chapter V.
How Poor Robin served one of his Companions a
Slovenous Trick.
Poor Robin having set up for himself (as you have beard),
he would oftentimes travel abroad in the country to get
acquaintance amongst the gentry. It happened one time,
being belated homeward, and his brain intoxicated with the
juice of Bacchus, that he took up his quarters in a country
ale-house, where notwithstanding he had gotten a lusty jug
before, yet fell he to drinking of beer and cider, as if his
belly was bottomless; at last. growing sleepy he went to
bed, where it was his chance to be lodged in the same
chamber where one of his acquaintances was already in bed,
who as he lay down sooner than poor Robin, so the next
morning was he no sooner got up providing a pot and toast
ready against poor Robin arose, but a foul mischance befel
poor Robin in the meantime, for the wine, beer, and cider
not agreeing in his belly, he very mannerly, sir-reverence
vomited on the bed. Whereupon not knowing what to do,
and being loth to be discredited, a crotchet came into his
crown, which he presently put in execution. He takes
the dirty sheets from off his own bed, and lays them on his
friend's, and then takes his and lays them on his own bed,
so spreading the coverlet as if nothing was amiss, he makes
himself ready and downstairs he goes. No sooner was he
below but his friend arrests him at Mr. Fox's suit, and by
all means would make him pay his groat for being drunk.
Poor Robin excused himself as well as he could, and would


POOR ROBIN THE MERRY SADDLER OF WALDEN. 341
be judged by the landlord whether he was fuddled or no;
whilst they were wrangling about paying the groat, the maid
went up into the chamber to make the beds; but finding one
of them in a pitiful pickle, she came chafing down, calling
the man beastly fellow and nasty knave, with other Billings-
gate language, such as came first to her tongue's end. The
man thought her mad, thus to scold for nothing, till at last
she told him plainly he had vomited the bed. "Nay,"
quoth poor Robin, " I will be judged by iny landlord which
of us was most fuddled last night." "Truly," said the host,
"I can judge no otherwise but that he was, or he would
not have played such a nasty trick." Whereupon it was
judged by all the company that the man should pay his
groat, and poor Robin got free.
Chapter VL
Of a sad Disaster that bejel Poor Robin.
It happened on a time, during the late unhappy wars, that
all the Essex Trainband were assembled at Walden, to
resist the king's forces, who, in a bravado, had made their
excursions as far as Huntington. Amongst other military
weapons of destruction, they brought a drake, which they
planted under poor Robin's chamber-window, to be shot off
at nine o'clock at night, for a warning for all people to
repair home. Poor Robin and his wife were at that time
newly gone to bed; now it is to be understood, the chamber
where they lay went out half over the room below, a rail of
about four feet high being set up by the side to keep them
from falling, close by the rail was poor Robin's bed. But
whilst they were going to sleep, the drake was shot off,
which poor Sarah, his wife, hearing, with the fright gave a
sudden start, and threw poor Robin quite over the rail into
the room below. Poor Robin was much bruised in body and
half dead. At length he got up, but his courage was so
cooled with the greatness of his fall that he had more need
of a doctor than a sleep.


342 AMUSING PROSE CHAP-BOOKS.
Chapter VII.
How Poor Sarah was cheated of her Mutton Pie.
Poor Sarah on a time made a very great pie, into which
she had put a whole loin of mutton besides other things, so
that it wan valued worth five or six shillings at least . This
pie she sent to the common oven to bake, which, being per-
ceived by three or four merry blades, they resolved, if they
could possibly, to cheat her of the pie, which at last they
brought to pass on this manner. At such time as the baker
used to draw, two of them went and held poor Sarah in a
tale, whilst the other sent one of her neighbour's boys to the
baker's with a pail, a napkin, and money to pay for the
baking. The baker mistrusting no knavery, delivered the
boy the pie, which was presently carried to the next ale-
house, whether inviting some more of their companions unto
them, with much mirth and laughter; and because the jest
should be publicly known they set the crier to work, who
published the same in every corner of the town.
Chapter VIII.
How Poor Robin ate Dog-stones instead of Lamb-stones.
As Poor Robin was more addicted to flesh than fish, so of
all sorts of flesh he loved a dish of lamb-stones best. A
merry disposed companion knowing his appetite, resolved to
put a trick upon him. A gentleman of the town who kept
a pack of hounds, having gelt his dogs, he gets the stones,
and with a few sweet breads presents them to poor Robin as
a dainty dish. Poor Robin very thankful for so great kind-
ness would not stay, but presently had them dressed, making
all the haste he could, for fear any should come in to be
partakers with him in his dinner. But having eaten them,
and understood the truth, he fell a-spewing as if his gall
would come up with it. Poor Sarah, in like manner, dis-
gorged her stomach, so that who should have seen them,
would have concluded them drunk with eating.


344 AMUSING PR0SE CHAP-BOOKS.
Chapter XII.
Poor Robin's Journey to London.
Poon Robin having never been in London in his life, and
being very desirous to see the city whose fame rang so loud
in every man's mouth, he resolved to make a jonrney
thither, and spend some time in viewing the rarities of the
same; but because he was unacquainted with the city cus-
toms, he got a companion of his to go along with him. No
sooner were they past Aldgate, but poor Robin seeing such
a number of signs, he whispered with his friend," Certainly,"
quoth he, " they must needs be all drunkards that live in
this place. I never saw so many ale-houses together in my
life." And thereupon beckoning to his companion, enters
one of the shops and calls for a jug of beer; but they making
him acquainted with his error, how they sold no drink, but
if he wanted anything else they could furnish him with it.
He presently without any studying asks them to show him
a pair of hedging gloves, whereupon changing their opinion,
instead of a fool they took him for a jeering companion;
and to fit him for his gloves had him to the pump and
soundly bedrenched him from head to foot. And having
occasion to go through Birching Lane, and being asked by
the salesmen, "Countrymen, what lack you?" "Marry,"
quoth he, "that which I fear you. cannot furnish me
withal," and being importuned of them to know what it was:
"Why," quoth he," that which you have none of I want,
honestj\" Night approaching, poor Robin and his walking
mate repaired to their inn, where, after they had supped and
drunk five or six jugs of beer with the host of the house,
and some of his men (for inn-keeper's servants drink most
of their beer at other men's cost), his friend loving no tobacco,
and poor Robin desiring the heathenish weed to pass away
the time, they agreed among themselves that every one of the
company should either tell a tale or sing a song. Poor Robin,
who first mentioned the same, beginning in this manner.


POOR ROBIN THE MERRY SADDLER OF WALDEN. 345
Chapter XIII.
A Tale of a Pair of Cards. •
Not many ages since a parson of a country village was
accused to a committee that he was a great gamester at
cards, being so addicted thereunto that he would ofttimes
play on Sundays. The committee thus informed, sent for
the parson to answer this accusation; who receiving the
warrant made no excuse nor delay, but with all haste made
his appearance before them; with him also came the in-
former to justify his accusation. Being thus met together,
the committee began to reprove the parson for being
addicted to such a vice, as to be noted for a common player
at cards. "Indeed," said the parson, "I am so far from it,
that I know not what a pair of cards meaneth." "Sir,"
quoth the informer, "if you please to search his pockets, I
believe you will find a pair there at present, for he seldom
gdeth without such tackling." Whereupon the committee
commanding his pocket to be searched, they found a pair of
cards there indeed, but the parson denied them to be cards,
saying, "They may be cards to you, but to me they are an
almanack." And being demanded how he could make it
appear, he answered thus: "First," quoth he, "here is
as many suits of cards as there be quarters in a year,
and as many court cards as there be months in a year, and
as many cards as there be weeks in a year, and as many
spots as there be days in a year. Then when I look upon
the king it puts me in mind of the allegiance that I owe to
my sovereign lord the king; looking upon the queen pute me
in mind of the allegiance that I owe to the queen; the ten
puts me in mind of the Ten Commandments; the nine, of
the nine muses; the eight, of the eight altitudes; the
seven, of the seven liberal sciences; the six, of six days
we ought to labour in; the five, of the five senses; the four,
of the four evangelists; the three, of the Trinity; the two,
of the two sacraments; and the ace, that we ought to wor-