Now being the Under-Prentice, my chief employment was to run on errands, so that having thereby an opportunity, I often visited the _Dagger_ in _Foster-lane_ for pudding-pies, my mouth always either peny loaf or pudding-pie fashion. Amongst other places that I went to, one of the chief was a Mercers in _Pater-Noster-row_, from whence my Master received a small snip for every Gown he helpt him to custom withall. Now their way of dealing was thus; my master bought the stuff, then the Mercer was to justifie that it cost him so much a yard, perhaps eight or ten shillings more in the Gown than it did, for which my Master when he brought customers to him, was to perswade them to the stuff, avouching there was not such another penny-worth in the Town, and that he was confident that he saved little or nothing by it; but only for to gain their custome; by which you see he who carries a Taylor with him to help him buy Cloaths, carries a Thief in stead of a Friend, for the Mercer and Taylor was both agreed, and what the first says, the other will swear to. Now to hear them muster up the names of their stuffs, would make you swear they were raysing so many Devils, there’s your _Parragon_, _Burragon_, _Phillipine_, _Cheny_, _Grogrum_, _Mow-hair_, _Damasilly_, _Novato_, _Pinckanilly_, _Pinckadino_, _Prunella_, _Itiliano_, _Castiliano_, _Perpetuana_, _Sempiternum_, _Tamme_, _Tammet_, _Tammeletto_, and a thousand more besides, such as _Adam_ never gave names to, being more for pride than for warmth, and rather to cloath sin, than to cover nakedness. But ere I could attain to any perfection in the Trade, my Master dyed of that which he lived by, _the Stich_, being taken with it as he was contriving a new fashion for a womans placket, that it should be neither before, nor behind, nor on either side, but before he could finish his project he was taken with this _Stich_, so that that invention was utterly lost thereby: now because he dyed of such a disease, I muster’d up all my wit and invention together, and made for him this Epitaph. _A Taylor in this Grave doth lie, Who by the_ Stich _did live and die; Longer his lifes_ thread _might have been, But death with’s_ sheares _came him between, Wound up his_ bottom, _bound his feet, And_ sow’d _him up in’s winding-sheet._