aracens, and the Dwarf, who was very courageous, dealt one
of the champions a most angry blow. It did the Saracen but very little
injury, who lifting up his sword, fairly struck off the poor Dwarf's
arm. He was now in a woeful plight; but the Giant coming to his
assistance, in a short time left the two Saracens dead on the plain, and
the Dwarf cut off the dead man's head out of spite. They then travelled
on to another adventure. This was against three bloody-minded Satyrs,
who were carrying away a damsel in distress. The Dwarf was not quite so
fierce now as before; but for all that, struck the first blow, which was
returned by another, that knocked out his eye: but the Giant was soon up
with them, and had they not fled, would certainly have killed them every
one. They were all very joyful for this victory, and the damsel who
was relieved fell in love with the Giant, and married him. They now
travelled far, and farther than I can tell, till they met with a company
of robbers. The Giant, for the first time, was foremost now; but the
Dwarf was not far behind. The battle was stout and long. Wherever the
Giant came all fell before him; but the Dwarf had like to have been
killed more than once. At last the victory declared for the two
adventurers; but the Dwarf lost his leg. The Dwarf was now without an
arm, a leg, and an eye, while the Giant was without a single wound. Upon
which he cried out to his little companion, My little heroe, this is
glorious sport; let us get one victory more, and then we shall have
honour for ever. No, cries the Dwarf who was by this time grown wiser,
no, I declare off; I'll fight no more; for I find in every battle that
you get all the honour and rewards, but all the blows fall upon me.'

I was going to moralize this fable, when our attention was called off
to a warm dispute between my wife and Mr Burchell, upon my daughters
intended expedition to town. My wife very strenuously insisted upon
the advantages that would result from it. Mr Burchell, on the contrary,
dissuaded her with great ardor, and I stood neuter. His present
dissuasions seemed but the second part of those which were received with
so ill a grace in the morning. The dispute grew high while poor Deborah,
instead of reasoning stronger, talked louder, and at last was obliged to
take shelter from a defeat in clamour. The conclusion of her harangue,
however, was highly displeasing to us all: she knew, she said, of some
who had their own s