ed his liberty, and married--his
wife loved a community of goods no less than her spouse, and ran off
with one citizen, while he was running on to the others. Chitterling
dried his tears; and contented himself with the reflection, that, in 'a
proper state of things,' such an event could not have occurred.

"Mr. Crabtree's money and life were now half gone. One does not
subscribe to the friends of freedom and spout at their dinners for
nothing. But the worst drop was yet in the cup. An undertaking, of the
most spirited and promising nature, was conceived by the chief of the
friends, and the dearest familiar of Mr. Chitterling Crabtree.
Our worthy embarked his fortune in a speculation so certain of
success;--crash went the speculation, and off went the friend--Mr.
Crabtree was ruined. He was not, however, a man to despair at trifles.
What were bread, meat, and beer, to the champion of equality! He went to
the meeting that very night: he said he gloried in his losses--they were
for the cause: the whole conclave rang with shouts of applause, and Mr.
Chitterling Crabtree went to bed happier than ever. I need not pursue
his history farther; you see him here--verbum sat. He spouts at the
'Ciceronian,' for half a crown a night, and to this day subscribes
sixpence a week to the cause of 'liberty and enlightenment all over the
world.'"

"By Heaven!" cried Dartmore, "he is a fine fellow, and my father shall
do something for him."

Gordon pricked up his ears, and continued,--"Now, for the second
person, gentlemen, whom I am about to describe to you. You see that
middle-sized, stout man, with a slight squint, and a restless, lowering,
cunning expression?"

"What! him in the kerseymere breeches and green jacket?" said I.

"The same," answered Gordon. "His real name, when he does not travel
with an alias, is Job Jonson. He is one of the most remarkable rogues in
Christendom; he is so noted a cheat, that there is not a pick-pocket in
England who would keep company with him if he had anything to lose.
He was the favourite of his father, who intended to leave him all his
fortune, which was tolerably large. He robbed him one day on the high
road; his father discovered it, and disinherited him. He was placed at
a merchant's office, and rose, step by step, to be head clerk, and
intended son-in-law. Three nights before his marriage, he broke open the
till, and was turned out of doors the next morning. If you were going to
do him the gr