heir Leave of each other at the _Dark-House_, to go to Bed
before the Day was too far spent. Chimney-Sweepers pass'd by us as we
made up to the Market, and some Raillery happened between one of the
Fruit-Wenches and those black Men, about the Devil and _Eve_, with
Allusion to their several Professions. I could not believe any Place
more entertaining than _Covent-Garden_; where I strolled from one
Fruit-shop to another, with Crowds of agreeable young Women around me,
who were purchasing Fruit for their respective Families. It was almost
Eight of the Clock before I could leave that Variety of Objects. I
took Coach and followed a young Lady, who tripped into another just
before me, attended by her Maid. I saw immediately she was of the
Family of the _Vainloves_. There are a Sett of these, who of all
things affect the Play of _Blindman's-Buff_, and leading Men into Love
for they know not whom, who are fled they know not where. This sort of
Woman is usually a janty Slattern; she hangs on her Cloaths, plays her
Head, varies her Posture, and changes place incessantly, and all with
an Appearance of striving at the same time to hide her self, and yet
give you to understand she is in Humour to laugh at you. You must have
often seen the Coachmen make Signs with their Fingers as they drive by
each other, to intimate how much they have got that Day. They can
carry on that Language to give Intelligence where they are driving. In
an Instant my Coachman took the Wink to pursue, and the Lady's Driver
gave the Hint that he was going through _Long-Acre_ towards St.
_James's_: While he whipp'd up _James-Street_, we drove for _King
Street_, to save the Pass at St. _Martin's-Lane_. The Coachmen took
care to meet, justle, and threaten each other for Way, and be
intangled at the End of _Newport-Street_ and _Long-Acre_. The Fright,
you must believe, brought down the Lady's Coach Door, and obliged her,
with her Mask off, to enquire into the Bustle, when she sees the Man
she would avoid. The Tackle of the Coach-Window is so bad she cannot
draw it up again, and she drives on sometimes wholly discovered, and
sometimes half-escaped, according to the Accident of Carriages in her
Way. One of these Ladies keeps her Seat in a Hackney-Coach as well as
the best Rider does on a managed Horse. The laced Shooe on her Left
Foot, with a careless Gesture, just appearing on the opposite Cushion,
held her both firm, and in a proper Attitude to receive the next Jolt