_Solution._ It is 20 Candles not lighted and one lighted. A Sort of Clownes for loss which they sustain'd [51.] By Souldiers, to the Captaine sore complain'd, With dolefull wordes, and very woefull faces, They Moov'd him to compassionate their Cases. Good Sir (sayes one) I pray redress our wrong, They that have done it, unto you belong; Of all that eare we had we are bereft, Except our very Shirts, theres nothing left. The Captaine answer'd thus; Fellowes heare mee: My Souldiers rob'd you not, I plainely see: At your first speech, you made me somewhat sad, But your last wordes resolv'd the doubt I had. For they which rifled you left Shirts (you say) And I am sure mine carry all away: By this I know an errour you are in, My Souldiers would have left you but your skin. [4.] A brisk young Lady, seeing the Sheriff of a County who was a comely young Man, wait upon the Judge who was an old Man, was asked by one, which she had most mind to, the Judge or the Sheriff? She answered, the Sheriff. He asking the reason, she replied, _That she loved Judgement well, but Execution much better_. One did praise dead Beer, [12.] Says his Friend, I fear That you have a Worm in your Head; Why de'e praise dead Beer? So must you too I swear, We must all speak well of the dead. [52.] It chanced, on a Bartholomew-day, when men keep Boothes in Smithfield, a Countrey Gentleman having some Store of money (and no lesse honesty) about him, comming to the Faire, would, amongst the rest needes view the pictures at that time hanging in the Cloysters, where was then much variety of postures, personages, stories, landskips, and such like, which carieth away the Senses, to a kinde of admiration for the present: and as he was thus gazing up and down, there comes a nimble diver (as at that time there resorts many) and closes with him, and quickly draws his purse forth of his pocket, and away he hies him presently: the Gentleman mist his purse, but knew not how to helpe himselfe. Going home to his lodging, and pondering in his minde how either to regain his losses, or to be revenged on the Pick-pocket, at length he bethought himself of this device: he caused an honest Taylor to sew a certain number of Fish hookes within, and round about the mouth of his pocket; with the poynts of the hookes hanging downward, and the next day hies him to the same place, in another Countrey like habit, and baites his Pocket with more money, and there he stood gazing againe at the pictures, presently his former fish (or one of his fraternity) closes with him again, and dives, which the Gentleman being watchfull of, gives a slip aside and had presently strucke the nibling fish into the hand, and feeling him fast, begins to goe away, and the more he hastes away, the deeper the hookes went into the Divers hand, Oh, (quoth the Pick-pocket) how now Sir (quoth the Gentleman) what makes your hand in my Pocket? Pull it