by all means take him on shore. Ay,
ay, says the lieutenant, take him on shore. Then the captain called to
some of the sailors, to help the poor old man over the side of the ship,
and out came Mr. Carew, with the blanket wrapped about his shoulders, and
so well did he counterfeit, that he seemed a most deplorable object of
compassion. The boat having got a little distance from the ship, was
called back again, and the lieutenant tossed him half-a-guinea, charging
him not to go into the city of Bristol, as he was enough to infect the
whole city.

Thus our hero, after seeing many cities and men, undergoing great
hardships, and encountering many dangers and difficulties, once more set
foot on his beloved country. Notwithstanding the joy he felt at being
safe on shore, he did not lay aside his small-pox, but travelled on
towards Bristol as one very bad in that distemper. Coming to Justice
Cann's, near Derham Downs, he met with the gardener, whom he asked if the
justice lived there, and was at home? Being told he was, he made a most
lamentable moan, and said, he was just come from New England, and had the
small-pox on him. The gardener went into the house, and, soon returning,
told him the justice was not at home; but gave him half-a-crown. He
still kept crying, I am a dying man, and I beseech you let me lie and die
in some hay-tallet, or any place of shelter. The gardener, seeing him so
ill, went in again, and brought out a cordial dram, and a mug of warm
ale, which Mr. Carew made shift to swallow. The gardener then left him,
being so much affrighted at his appearance and lamentable moans, that he
let both glass and mug fall to the ground, before he reached the house.
Mr. Carew then made a shift, notwithstanding his dying condition, to
reach the city of Bristol; and being now freed from his apprehensions of
being pressed, at the first barber's he came to he got rid of his beard,
and bid adieu to the small-pox; he then made the best of his way to the
mendicants' hall, on Mile-hill. Just as he came there, the landlady and
an old croney, a tinker's wife, were standing at the door; as soon as the
landlady espied him, she clapped her hands, and swore it was either Mr.
Carew or his ghost. As soon as they were convinced he was flesh and
blood, great were the kisses, hugs, and embraces, of the three. Our
hero's first inquiry was, when they had seen his dear Polly, meaning his
wife: the landlady told him she had not seen