ot; it is
a poor town, to my thinking. Are there any gentry in it? said I. And so
we chatted on about the town, to deceive her. But my deceit intended no
hurt to any body.

We then talked of the garden, how large and pleasant, and the like; and
sat down on the tufted slope of the fine fish-pond, to see the fishes
play upon the surface of the water; and she said, I should angle if I
would.

I wish, said I, you'd be so kind to fetch me a rod and baits. Pretty
mistress! said she--I know better than that, I'll assure you, at this
time.--I mean no harm, said I, indeed. Let me tell you, said she. I know
none who have their thoughts more about them than you. A body ought
to look to it where you are. But we'll angle a little to-morrow. Mr.
Williams, who is much afraid of her, turned the discourse to a general
subject. I sauntered in, and left them to talk by themselves; but he
went away to town, and she was soon after me.

I had got to my pen and ink; and I said, I want some paper, Mrs. Jewkes,
(putting what I was about in my bosom:) You know I have written two
letters, and sent them by John. (O how his name, poor guilty fellow,
grieves me!) Well, said she, you have some left; one sheet did for those
two letters. Yes, said I; but I used half another for a cover, you
know; and see how I have scribbled the other half; and so I shewed her
a parcel of broken scraps of verses, which I had tried to recollect, and
had written purposely that she might see, and think me usually employed
to such idle purposes. Ay, said she, so you have; well, I'll give you
two sheets more; but let me see how you dispose of them, either written
or blank. Well, thought I, I hope still, Argus, to be too hard for thee.
Now Argus, the poets say, had a hundred eyes, and was set to watch with
them all, as she does.

She brought me the paper, and said, Now, madam, let me see you write
something. I will, said I; and took the pen and wrote, 'I wish Mrs.
Jewkes would be so good to me, as I would be to her, if I had it in my
power.'--That's pretty now, said she; well, I hope I am; but what then?
'Why then (wrote I) she would do me the favour to let me know, what I
have done to be made her prisoner; and what she thinks is to become
of me.' Well, and what then? said she. 'Why then, of consequence,
(scribbled I,) she would let me see her instructions, that I may know
how far to blame, or to acquit her.'

Thus I fooled on, to shew her my fondness for scribbling; f