running in upon me, and had a round or two with him. Lord bless
you, young man, it was like a fly fighting with an elephant--one of those
big beasts the show-folks carry about. I had not a chance with the
fellow, he knocked me here, he knocked me there, knocked me into the
hedge, and knocked me out again. I was at my last shifts, and my poor
wife saw it. Now my poor wife, though she is as gentle as a pigeon, has
yet a spirit of her own, and though she wasn't bred upon the roads, can
scratch a little; so when she saw me at my last shifts, she flew at the
villain--she couldn't bear to see her partner murdered--and scratched the
villain's face. Lord bless you, young man, she had better have been
quiet: Grey Moll no sooner saw what she was about, than, springing out of
the cart, where she had sat all along perfectly quiet, save a little
whooping and screeching to encourage her blade:--Grey Moll, I say (my
flesh creeps when I think of it--for I am a kind husband, and love my
poor wife) . . .

_Myself_. Take another draught of the ale; you look frightened, and it
will do you good. Stout liquor makes stout heart, as the man says in the
play.

_Tinker_. That's true, young man; here's to you--where was I? Grey Moll
no sooner saw what my wife was about, than, springing out of the cart,
she flew at my poor wife, clawed off her bonnet in a moment, and seized
hold of her hair. Lord bless you, young man, my poor wife, in the hands
of Grey Moll, was nothing better than a pigeon in the claws of a buzzard
hawk, or I in the hands of the Flaming Tinman, which when I saw, my heart
was fit to burst, and I determined to give up everything--everything to
save my poor wife out of Grey Moll's claws. 'Hold!' I shouted. 'Hold,
both of you--Jack, Moll. Hold, both of you, for God's sake, and I'll do
what you will: give up trade, and business, connection, bread, and
everything, never more travel the roads, and go down on my knees to you
in the bargain.' Well, this had some effect; Moll let go my wife, and
the Blazing Tinman stopped for a moment; it was only for a moment,
however, that he left off--all of a sudden he hit me a blow which sent me
against a tree; and what did the villain then? why the flying villain
seized me by the throat, and almost throttled me, roaring--what do you
think, young man, that the flaming villain roared out?

_Myself_. I really don't know--something horrible, I suppose.

_Tinker_. Horrible, indeed; you