id that he should have the
pleasure of calling upon Mr Cophagus, and thank him for his kind
information relative to me. Shortly afterwards Cophagus took his leave,
and Susannah rose to accompany him, when my father, hearing that they
had walked, insisted upon putting Miss Temple down in his carriage. So
that Mr Cophagus had to walk home one way, and I the other.

Chapter LXXXI

Poor Cophagus finds an end to his adventures by the means of a
mad bull; I, of mine, by matrimony--Father is prettily behaved,
and my Quaker wife the most fashionably dressed lady in
town--verily! hum!

Alas! little did Mr Cophagus know how fatal to him would be the light
cotton nets when he put them on that day. He had proceeded, as it
appears, about two-thirds of his way home (he lived in Welbeck Street),
when he perceived a rush from up a street leading into Oxford Street. He
looked to ascertain the cause, when to his horror he perceived--what to
him was the greatest of all horrors--a mad bull. If anything could make
Mr Cophagus run, it was a sight like that, and he did run; but he could
not run fast in his cotton nets and tight Hessians, which crippled him
altogether. As if out of pure spite, the bull singled him out from at
least one hundred, who exerted their agility and again was poor Mr
Cophagus tossed far behind the animal, fortunately breaking his fall by
tumbling on a large dog who was in full chase. The dog, who was unable to
crawl from beneath the unfortunate Cophagus, was still in a condition to
bite, which he did most furiously; and the butcher, who had an affection
for his dog, when he perceived its condition, also vented his fury upon
poor Cophagus, by saluting him with several blows on his head with his
cudgel. What between the bull, the dog, and the butcher, poor Mr Cophagus
was taken into a shop in a very deplorable condition. After some time he
recovered, and was able to name his residence, when he was taken home.

It was late in the evening when I received a note from Susannah,
informing me of that unfortunate accident. My father had just finished
a long story about filial duty, country girls, good wives, &c, and had
wound up by saying, that he and Mr Masterton both considered that Miss
Temple would be a very eligible match, and that as I had requested him
to select, he had selected her accordingly. I had just proved how truly
dutiful I was, by promising to do all I could to love her, and to fu