Well, young man, for six or seven years
I--as the happiest fellow breathing, living just the life you described
just now--respected by everybody in this beat; when in an evil hour comes
this Black Jack, this flaming tinman, into these parts, driven as they
say out of Yorkshire--for no good you may be sure. Now there is no beat
will support two tinkers, as you doubtless know; mine was a good one, but
it would not support the flying tinker and myself, though if it would
have supported twenty it would have been all the same to the flying
villain, who'll brook no one but himself; so he presently finds me out,
and offers to fight me for the beat. Now, being bred upon the roads, I
can fight a little, that is with anything like my match, but I was not
going to fight him, who happens to be twice my size, and so I told him;
whereupon he knocks me down, and would have done me farther mischief had
not some men been nigh and prevented him; so he threatened to cut my
throat, and went his way. Well, I did not like such usage at all, and
was woundily frightened, and tried to keep as much out of his way as
possible, going anywhere but where I thought I was likely to meet him;
and sure enough for several months I contrived to keep out of his way. At
last somebody told me that he was gone back to Yorkshire, whereupon I was
glad at heart, and ventured to show myself, going here and there as I did
before. Well, young man, it was yesterday that I and mine set ourselves
down in a lane, about five miles from here, and lighted our fire, and had
our dinner, and after dinner I sat down to mend three kettles and a
frying pan which the people in the neighbourhood had given me to
mend--for, as I told you before, I have a good connection, owing to my
honesty. Well, as I sat there hard at work, happy as the day's long, and
thinking of anything but what was to happen, who should come up but this
Black Jack, this king of the tinkers, rattling along in his cart, with
his wife, that they call Grey Moll, by his side--for the villain has got
a wife, and a maid-servant too; the last I never saw, but they that has,
says that she is as big as a house, and young, and well to look at, which
can't be all said of Moll, who, though she's big enough in all
conscience, is neither young nor handsome. Well, no sooner does he see
me and mine, than, giving the reins to Grey Moll, he springs out of his
cart, and comes straight at me; not a word did he say, but on h