old him
she did not value his resentment a louse.

In the midst of this quarrel the master of the waggon alighted, who,
understanding the cause of the disturbance, and fearing the captain and
his lady would take umbrage and leave his carriage, was at great pains
to have everything made up, which he at last accomplished, and we sat
down to supper altogether. At bedtime we were shown to our apartments;
the old usurer, Strap, and I, to one room; the captain, his wife, and
Miss Jenny, to another. About midnight, my companion's bowels being
disordered, he got up, in order to go backward, but in his return,
mistaking one door for another, entered Weazel's chamber, and without
any hesitation went to bed to his wife, who was fast asleep, the captain
being at another end of the room groping for some empty vessel, in lieu
of his own chamberpot, which was leaky: as he did not perceive
Strap coming in, he went towards his own bed, after having found a
convenience; but no sooner did he feel a rough head, covered with a
cotton nightcap, than it came into his mind that he had mistaken Miss
Jenny's bed instead of his own, and that the head he felt was that
of some gallant, with whom she had made an assignation. Full of his
conjecture, and scandalised at the prostitution of his apartment, he
snatched up the vessel he had just before filled, and emptied it at once
on the astonished barber and his own wife, who waking at that instant,
broke forth into lamentable cries, which not only alarmed the husband
beyond measure, but frighted poor Strap almost out of his senses; for he
verily believed himself bewitched, especially when the incensed captain
seized him by the throat, with a volley of oaths, asking him how he
durst have the presumption to attempt the chastity of his wife. Poor
Strap was so amazed and confounded, that he could say nothing but--"I
take God to witness she's a virgin for me."

Mrs. Weazel, enraged to find herself in such a pickle through the
precipitation of her husband, arose in her shift, and with the heel of
her shoe which she found by the bedside, belaboured the captain's bald
pate till he roared "Murder." "I'll teach you to empty your stinkpots
on me," cried she, "you pitiful hop-o'-my-thumb coxcomb. What, I warrant
you're jealous, you man of lath. Was it for this I condescended to take
you to my bed, you poor, withered, sapless twig?"

The noise occasioned by this adventure had brought the master of the
waggon and