my hand," said Tom. He receives it, and turning to the woman, said, "Here take it and get about your business." She replied, "I thank your worship, you are an honest good man, and have done me justice." The little seaman the meanwhile wrung his hands and bitterly cried out, "I am ruined, for it is every penny I had in the world." "Well," quoth Tom, "haste after her, and take it from her again." According to Tom's order he runs after her, and when he came after her, he said, "I must, and will have my purse again." Then she fell about his ears and cuffed him. Nay, this did not satisfy her, but she dragged him back again to Tom, who sat as justice, and told him that the fellow followed her for the purse, which he in justice gave her. "Well," said Tom, "and has he got it?" "No," said she, "I think not; before he should take it from me, I'd tear out both his eyes." "Let me see it again," says Tom. She gives it to him. "Is all the money in it?" quoth he. "Yes, sir," said she, "every penny." "Why then," said he, "here little whipper-snapper, take your purse again; and as for you Mrs. Impudence, had you kept your word as well as you did the money, I never had been troubled with this complaint. Here, Mr. Constable, give her a hundred lashes at the town's whipping post." Which was accordingly done, and Tom was applauded for his just proceedings. CHAPTER X. _How Tom used a Singing Man of a Cathedral Church in the West._ Once there was a cathedral singing man that had very much angered Tom, and had made songs and jests upon him, whereupon Tom got on his back an ox-hide, with the horns set upon his head, and so lay in a hedge bottom, waiting till the singing man came by, who he was sure must pass that way. At last name the singing man. Up started Tom out of the hedge bottom in his ox-hide, and followed him, the singing man cried out, "The devil! the devil!" "No," quoth Tom, "I am the ghost of goodman Johnson, living hard by the Church stile, unto whose house ye came and sung catches, and owes me five pounds for ale, therefore appoint me a day when ye will bring me my money hither, or else I will haunt thee still." The singing man promised that day se'enight, and accordingly he did; and Tom made himself brave clothes with the money, and sweethearts came about him as bees do about a honey pot. But Tom wore a rope in his pocket, and being asked if he would marry, he would pull it out, and laugh, saying, "I have broken my shins already, and will be wiser hereafter; for I am an old colt, and now may have as much wit as a horse." CHAPTER XI. _Of Tom Tram's wooing Cicily Summers, the neat Wench of the West._