uit the roads. The villain swore that the next time he saw
us on the roads he'd cut all our throats, and seize our horse and bit of
a cart that are now standing out there under the tree.

_Myself_.--And what do you mean to do with your horse and cart?

_Tinker_.--Another question! What shall we do with our cart and pony?
they are of no use to us now. Stay on the roads I will not, both for my
oath's sake and my own. If we had a trifle of money, we were thinking of
going to Bristol, where I might get up a little business, but we have
none; our last three farthings we spent about the mug of beer.

_Myself_.--But why don't you sell your horse and cart?

_Tinker_.--Sell them? And who would buy them, unless some one who wished
to set up in my line; but there's no beat, and what's the use of the
horse and cart and the few tools without the beat?

_Myself_.--I'm half-inclined to buy your cart and pony, and your beat
too.

_Tinker_.--You! How came you to think of such a thing?

_Myself_.--Why, like yourself, I hardly know what to do. I want a home
and work. As for a home, I suppose I can contrive to make a home out of
your tent and cart; and as for work, I must learn to be a tinker, it
would not be hard for one of my trade to learn to tinker; what better can
I do? Would you have me go to Chester and work there now? I don't like
the thoughts of it. If I go to Chester and work there, I can't be my own
man; I must work under a master, and perhaps he and I should quarrel, and
when I quarrel I am apt to hit folks, and those that hit folks are
sometimes sent to prison; I don't like the thought either of going to
Chester or to Chester prison. What do you think I could earn at Chester?

_Tinker_.--A matter of eleven shillings a week, if anybody would employ
you, which I don't think they would with those hands of yours. But
whether they would or not, if you are of a quarrelsome nature, you must
not go to Chester; you would be in the castle in no time. I don't know
how to advise you. As for selling you my stock, I'd see you farther
first, for your own sake.

_Myself_.--Why?

_Tinker_.--Why! you would get your head knocked off. Suppose you were to
meet him?

_Myself_.--Pooh, don't be afraid on my account; if I were to meet him I
could easily manage him one way or other. I know all kinds of strange
words and names, and, as I told you before, I sometimes hit people when
they put me out.

Here the tinker's wife,