ter, was as tempestuous as a wind-blown petticoat. A very 'tomrig
and rump-scuttle,' she knew only the sports of boys: her war-like spirit
counted no excuse too slight for a battle; and so valiant a lad was she
of her hands, so well skilled in cudgel-play, that none ever wrested
a victory from fighting Moll. While other girls were content to hem a
kerchief or mark a sampler, Moll would escape to the Bear Garden, and
there enjoy the sport of baiting, whose loyal patron she remained unto
the end. That which most bitterly affronted her was the magpie talk of
the wenches. 'Why,' she would ask in a fury of indignation, 'why crouch
over the fire with a pack of gossips, when the highway invites you to
romance? Why finger a distaff, when a quarterstaff comes more aptly to
your hand?'

And thus she grew in age and stature, a stranger to the soft delights
of her sex, her heart still deaf to the trivial voice of love. Had not a
wayward accident cumbered her with a kirtle, she would have sought death
or glory in the wars; she would have gone with Colonel Downe's men upon
the road; she would have sailed to the Spanish Main for pieces of
eight. But the tyranny of womanhood was as yet supreme, and the honest
shoemaker, ignorant of his daughter's talent, bade her take service at a
respectable saddler's, and thus suppress the frowardness of her passion.
Her rebellion was instant. Never would she abandon the sword and
the wrestling-booth for the harmless bodkin and the hearthstone of
domesticity. Being absolute in refusal, she was kidnapped by her friends
and sent on board a ship, bound for Virginia and slavery. There, in the
dearth of womankind, even so sturdy a wench as Moll might have found
a husband; but the enterprise was little to her taste, and, always
resourceful, she escaped from shipboard before the captain had weighed
his anchor.

Henceforth she resolved her life should be free and chainless as the
winds. Never more should needle and thread tempt her to a womanish
inactivity. As Hercules, whose counterpart she was, changed his club for
the distaff of Omphale, so would she put off the wimple and bodice of
her sex for jerkin and galligaskins. If she could not allure manhood,
then would she brave it. And though she might not cross swords with her
country's foes, at least she might levy tribute upon the unjustly rich,
and confront an enemy wherever there was a full pocket.

Her entrance into a gang of thieves was beset by no dif