The tanner’s replication was in the same style. If these be marks of affection, thought the listener, what would they say to my pretensions if I told all? And ’Prentice John, as he listened and commented on what he heard, grew a wiser, more knowing youth. “If thou wert a younger man, Master Nathaniel,” said the lawyer, “there would be no need for these mutual taunts. We have a readier mode of settling—” “Curse thy youth, and thee too,” exclaimed the tanner; “’cause thou art a vain, braggart fop, with thy galloon and thy large cabbage roses, think’st to brave it over me?—there!—and there!” And so saying, the valiant tanner dealt successive cuffs on Master Luke’s doublet, and drawing weapon, awaited the attack. Their rapiers—for the tanner, though following a handicraft, yet, as owning broad lands, deemed himself entitled to wear a weapon and dub himself gentleman—immediately crossed, but the alert apprentice, with stout cudgel, threw himself between and struck down their guard. “Good sirs! good sirs! forbear!” cried one hastening to assist young Winehcomb. ’Twas the curate of Spene. The belligerents immediately sheathed their weapons, muttering future vengeance. The holy man requested to know the cause of quarrel, and offered to act as umpire. This, after demur and consideration, was agreed to. Hearing each in turn, he proposed, as more becoming their respective characters than fighting, that the case should be stated to Mistress Avery—the election left to the fair widow. As each deemed himself the favored candidate, and, indeed, with good cause, for our dame had been gracious to both, the curate’s proposal was accepted, and his eloquence solicited to open the pleadings. The party thereupon returned to the tavern, the apprentice not the least interested actor in the drama. The curate of Spene, though grave and sententious, threw into his speech an under current of humor and _bonhommie_, which touched off the pretensions of each suitor with dramatic effect and felicity. Neither could question his impartiality, nor had he, as he affirmed, secret preponderance either way; both were esteemed friends, both had received the offices of the church at his hands, both had listened to his Sabbath exhortations. Which of the twain reigned in the lady’s heart, to him he should offer congratulation; to the other he could fairly say, that he merited the honor for which he had unsuccessfully striven. There was a pause, a deep silence. The blushing widow must now speak, declare herself, decide her own fate, and with it the fortunes of the suitors. How ardently did ’Prentice John long for one of the many opportunities of pleading his passion, oft thrown in his way, so heedlessly neglected! Would she indeed make an election? then, farewell, Newbury! in some far distant land would he hide his disgrace, forget his folly.