tered, and my lady
was so alarmed that she had well nigh fainted?" "Yes, my dear," replied
the captain, "you know my lord said to me, with a sneer, 'Billy, Mrs.
Weazel is certainly breeding.' And I answered cavalierly, 'My lord, I
wish I could return the compliment.' Upon which the whole company
broke out into an immoderate fit of laughter; and my lord, who loves a
repartee dearly, came round and bussed me." We travelled in this manner
five days, without interruption or meeting anything worth notice: Miss
Jenny, who soon recovered her spirits, entertaining us every day with
diverting songs, of which she could sing a great number; and rallying
her own gallant, who, notwithstanding, would never be reconciled to
her. On the sixth day, while we were about to sit down to dinner, the
innkeeper came and told us, that three gentlemen, just arrived, had
ordered the victuals to be carried to their apartment, although he had
informed them that they were bespoke by the passengers in the waggon. To
which information they had replied, "the passengers in the waggon might
be d--d, their betters must be served before them; they supposed it
would be no hardship on such travellers to dine upon bread and cheese
for one day." This was a terrible disappointment to us all; and we
laid our heads together how to remedy it; when Miss Jenny observed that
Captain Weazel, being by profession a soldier, ought in this case to
protect and prevent us from being insulted. But the Captain excused
himself, saying, he would not for all the world be known to have
travelled in a waggon! swearing at the same time, that could he appear
with honour, they should eat his sword sooner than his provision. Upon
this declaration, Miss Jenny, snatching his weapon, drew it, and ran
immediately into the kitchen, where she threatened to put the cook to
death if he did not send the victuals into our chamber immediately. The
noise she made brought the three strangers down, one of whom no sooner
perceived her than he cried, "Ha! Jenny Ramper! what the devil brought
thee hither?" "My dear Jack Rattle!" replied she, running into his arms,
"is it you? Then Weazel may go to hell for a dinner--I shall dine with
you."

They consented to this proposal with a great deal of joy; and we were
on the point of being reduced to a very uncomfortable meal, when Joey,
understanding the whole affair, entered the kitchen with a pitchfork in
his hand, and swore he would be the death of any man