s, and a flapped Hat, all very Worn
and Greasy. He was about my own age, and wore his own Hair; but the most
remarkable thing about him was his Face. I never saw such a Red Face.
'Twas a hundred times more fiery than that of Bardolph in the Play.
'Twas more glowing than a Salamander's. 'Twas redder than Sir Robert
Walpole's (the great Whig Minister who, in my youth, was called by the
Common "Brandy-faced Bob!"). This man's Face was most terribly puffed
and swollen, and the veins all injected with purplish Blood. The tips of
his Ears were like two pendant Carbuncles. His little bloodshot Eyes
seemed starting from their Sockets, while the Cheeks beneath puffed out
like Pillows for his Orbits to rest upon. Not less worthy of remark was
it that this Red-faced Man's Lips were of a tawny White. He was for ever
scrabbling with his hands among his tufted Locks, and pressing them to
his Temples, as though his Head pained him--which there was reason to
believe it did.

This strange Person was, when I entered the Wine-shop, in hot Dispute
with the Master about some trifling Liquor Score. He would not Pay, he
said; no, not he. He had been basely Robbed and Swindled. He had plenty
of Money, but he would not disburse a Red Liard. He showed, indeed, a
Leathern Purse with two or three Gold Pieces in it, and smaller Money;
but declared that he would Die sooner than disburse. And as he said
this, he drew out of his pocket a long Clasp-Knife, two-bladed; and
opening it, brandished it about, and said they had better let him go, or
Worse would come of it.

The Master of the Tavern and his Wife, decent bodies both, were wofully
frightened at the behaviour of this Desperado; but I was not to be
frightened by such Racketing. I bade him put up his Toothpick, giving
him at the same time a Back-Hander, which drove him into a Corner, where
he crouched, snarling like a Wild-beast, but offering to do me no hurt.
Then I asked what the To-do was about, and was told that he stood
indebted but for Eight Sols, for Half a Litre of Wine, and that they
could not account for his Fury. The Man was evidently not in Liquor,
which was strange.

These good people were so flustered at the Man's uncommon Demeanour,
that, seeing I was Strong and Valiant, they begged me to take him away.
This I did, first discharging his Reckoning; for as he had Money about
him, I doubted not but that he would recoup me. I got him into the
Street (which was close to the Market of