an and I laughed ready to
split. I gave him half a crown to drive on shore without them, which he
did, and we left them to make their way out how they could; and a pretty
pickle they did come out at last. Thus was their day's pleasure, as well
as their clothes, all spoiled; and instead of dancing at the fair and
seeing all the sights, they were shivering in their wet clothes, and the
laughingstocks to all that saw them.

"Depend upon it, I did not leave them after they had crawled out to the
beach. The fellow was, as you may suppose, as savage as a bull, and very
saucy, so I took off my jacket that I might not dirty myself, and gave
him a couple of black eyes and a bloody nose for his trouble; and as for
Peggy, I pretended to be so sorry for her, and condoled with her so
much, that at last she flew at me like a tigress--and as I knew that
there was no honor, and plenty of mud, to be gained by the conflict, I
took to my heels and ran off to the fair, where I met some of my friends
and told them what had happened, and then we had a very merry day of it,
and I felt quite cured of my love; for, you see, Peggy looked so ugly
and miserable when she was in the state I left her, that I had only to
think of her as when I last saw her, and all my love was gone."

"Did you ever meet her again?"

"I met her that very night; for, you see, she had gone to a cottage and
taken off her clothes, having insisted upon her fancy man going back to
Portsmouth to fetch her others to go home in. He dared not refuse, so
off he went in the pickle that he was. But he didn't come back again,
for, you see, there was a warrant out against him for an affray at Bear
Haven, in which a King's officer was killed; and after he had changed
his own clothes, and was proceeding to get some for her from the
Chequers, he was met by the constable who had the warrant, and carried
off handcuffed to jail, and afterward he was transported--so she never
saw him again. Well, Peggy, poor creature, had been waiting for him for
hours, expecting his return; and it was past ten o'clock when I was
coming down with some others, and saw her at the door of the cottage
weeping.

"'Good-night, Peggy,' says I.

"'Oh, Philip, do be kind, do come to me; I'm frightened out of my life.
I shall have to stay here all night.'

"So, you see, I did feel some little pity for her, and I went up to
her, and she told me how she had sent him, and he had never come back
again.

"'The fa