y went he?" "Towards Tyburn in a cart," said he, "if you make good
speed, you may get thither time enough to see him hanged." This piece of
wit incensed my friend to such a degree, that he called the blacksmith
scoundrel, and protested he would fight him for half-a-farthing. "No,
no!" said the other, stripping; "I'll have none of your money--you
Sootchmen seldom carry anything about you; but I'll fight you for love."
Were was a ring immediately formed by the mob: and Strap, finding he
could not get off honourably without fighting, at the same time burning
with resentment against his adversary, quitted his clothes to the care
of the multitude, and the battle began with great violence on the side
of Strap, who in a few minutes exhausted his breath and spirits on his
patient antagonist, who sustained the assault with great coolness, till
finding the barber quite spent, he returned the blows he had lent him,
with such interest, that Strap, after having received three falls on the
hard stones, gave out, and allowed the blacksmith to be the better man.

The victory being thus decided, it was proposed to adjourn to a cellar
hard by, and drink friends. But when my friend began to gather up his
clothes, he perceived that some honest person or other had made free
with his shirt, neckcloth, hat, and wig, which were carried off; and
probably his coat and waistcoat would have met with the same fate, had
they been worth stealing. It was in vain for him to make a noise, which
only yielded mirth to the spectators; he was fain to get off in this
manner, which he accomplished with much difficulty and appeared before
me all besmeared with blood and dirt. Notwithstanding this misfortune,
such was his transport at finding me safe and sound, that he had almost
stifled and stunk me to death with his embraces. After he had cleaned
himself, and put on one of my shirts, and a woollen nightcap, I
recounted to him the particulars of my night's campaign, which
filled him with admiration, and made him repeat with great energy an
observation which was often in his mouth, namely, 'that surely London is
the devil's drawing-room.' As neither of us had dined, he desired me
to get up, and the milkwoman coming round at that instant, he went
downstairs, and brought up a quart, with a penny loaf, on which we made
a comfortable meal. He then shared his money with me, which amounted to
eighteen-pence, and left me with an intention to borrow an old wig and
hat o