ing the state
in which I was, she stopped and asked what was the matter with me; I told
her some part of my story, whereupon she said: 'Cheer up, my dear, if you
like you shall go with me, and wait upon me'. Of course I wanted little
persuasion, so I got into the cart and went with her. She took me to
London and various other places, and I soon found that she was a
travelling woman, who went about the country with silks and linen. I was
of great use to her, more especially in those places where we met evil
company. Once, as we were coming from Dover, we were met by two sailors,
who stopped our cart, and would have robbed and stripped us. 'Let me get
down,' said I; so I got down, and fought with them both, till they turned
round and ran away. Two years I lived with the old gentlewoman who was
very kind to me, almost as kind as a mother; at last she fell sick at a
place in Lincolnshire, and after a few days died, leaving me her cart and
stock in trade, praying me only to see her decently buried, which I did,
giving her a funeral fit for a gentlewoman. After which I travelled the
country melancholy enough for want of company, but so far fortunate, that
I could take my own part when anybody was uncivil to me. At last,
passing through the valley of Todmorden, I formed the acquaintance of
Blazing Bosville and his wife, with whom I occasionally took journeys for
company's sake, for it is melancholy to travel about alone, even when one
can take one's own part. I soon found they were evil people; but, upon
the whole, they treated me civilly, and I sometimes lent them a little
money, so that we got on tolerably well together. He and I, it is true,
had once a dispute, and nearly came to blows, for once, when we were
alone, he wanted me to marry him, promising if I would, to turn off Grey
Moll, or if I liked it better, to make her wait upon me as a
maid-servant; I never liked him much, but from that hour less than ever.
Of the two, I believe Grey Moll to be the best, for she is at any rate
true and faithful to him, and I like truth and constancy, don't you,
young man?"

"Yes," said I, "they are very nice things. I feel very strangely."

"How do you feel, young man?"

"Very much afraid."

"Afraid, at what? At the Flaming Tinman? Don't be afraid of him. He
won't come back, and if he did, he shouldn't touch you in this state. I'd
fight him for you, but he won't come back, so you needn't be afraid of
him."

"I'm no