"What! honest Simon," said Jobson, "I am glad to see you, for since our last meeting I hear you are married, and now I wish thee much happiness." Now, old Jobson, being a merry fellow, invited Simon to take a flaggon of the best liquor that the next ale-house would afford, and there to drink to Margery's health. Being merry in discourse, talking of the tricks and pranks they had played when bachelors. Jobson, taking up the flaggon in his hand, said, "Come, here's to thee, honest Simon, and I wish thee better luck than Randal, thy old father-in-law, had with his wife; for she was such a scold that happy were they who lived out of the clamour of her noise. But without doubt thy dear wife may be of a milder spirit, and have more of her father's meekness than her mother's fury in her; but come, Simon, here's to thee and to thy dearly-beloved Margery." Cries Simon, "If she was present how merry we should be; but, I fear, on the wrong side of the mouth." "Well," said Jobson, "I vow I long to see her; and I verily believe she would be as glad to see me. I dare to say she will prove a very good wife." "Truly, neighbour Jobson, I don't know; but if I have no better ending than beginning, I wish I had ended my life at the plough tail." No sooner were these words out of his mouth but in comes Margery, with her gossips, whom Simon wished to see, forsooth. He wished her much joy, but Margery, in a woeful fury, snatched up Jobson's oaken staff from off the table, and gave poor Simon such a clank upon the noddle which made the blood spin out, saying, "Is this your work, sirrah?" Jobson, seeing so sudden an alteration, was affrighted, not knowing how to escape. She then turned about to the left, saying, "Thou rogue and rascal, it is you that ruins all the good women's husbands in the town; therefore you shall not go unrewarded," giving him such strokes over his back and shoulders as caused poor Jobson to lay in bed almost a fortnight. Simple Simon all this while not having any power to run away, but stood like one half frighted out of his wits, and trembling before his bride, with his hat in one hand and the flaggon in the other, begging her that she would be patient, and he would never offend her any more. But she gave him a frown, and bid him begone about his business, which he immediately did. So then Margery and her friendly gossips had the whole apartment to themselves, where they sat till they were all as drunk as fish-women. CHAPTER II. _She drags him up into the Chimney, and hangs him a Smoke-drying._