_Sailor._ Begged! no. I just axed for a bit of bread and a mug o' water. That's no more than one Christian ought to give another, and if you call that begging, why I beg to differ in opinion. _O'Ded._ According to the act you are a vagrant, and the justice may commit ye; (_aside to the officer_) lookye, Mr. Officer--you're in the wrong box here. Can't you see plain enough, by his having lost an arm, that he earns a livelihood by the work of his hands; so lest he should be riotous for being detained, let me advise you to be off. I'll send him off after you with a flea in his ear--the other way. _Officer._ Thank ye, sir, thank ye. I'm much obliged to you for your advice, sir, and shall take it, and so my service to you. [_Exit._ _O'Ded._ Take this my honest lad; (_gives money_) say nothing about it, and give my service to Nancy. _Sailor._ Why now, heaven bless you honour forever; and if ever you're in distress, and I'm within sight of signals, why hang out your blue lights; and if I don't bear down to your assistance, may my gun be primed with damp powder the first time we fire a broadside at the enemy. [_Exit._ O'Dedimus _rings a bell._ _O'Ded._ Ponder! Now will this fellow be thinking and thinking, till he quite forgets what he's doing. Ponder, I say! (_enter Ponder._) Here, Ponder, take this letter to farmer Flail's, and if you see Mrs. Muddle, his neighbour, give my love and duty to her. _Ponder._ Yes, yes, sir; but at that moment, sir, I was immersed in thought, if I may be allowed the expression; I was thinking of the vast difference between love and law, and yet how neatly you've spliced them together in your last instructions to your humble servant, Peter Ponder, clerk.--Umph! _O'Ded._ Umph! is that your manners, you bear-garden? Will I never be able to larn you to behave yourself? Study _me_, and talk like a gentleman, and be damn'd to ye. _Ponder._ I study the law; I can't talk it. _O'Ded._ Cant you? Then you'll never do. If your tongue don't run faster than your client's, how will you ever be able to bother him, you booby? _Ponder._ I'll draw out his case; he shall read, and he'll bother himself. _O'Ded._ You've a notion. Mind my instructions, and I don't despair of seeing you at the bar one day. Was that copy of a writ sarved yesterday upon Garble, the tailor? _Ponder._ Aye. _O'Ded._ And sarve him right too. That's a big rogue, that runs in debt wid his eyes open, and though he has property, refuses to pay. Is he safe? _Ponder._ He was bailed by Swash the brewer. _O'Ded._ And was the other sarved on Shuttle, the weaver? _Ponder._ Aye. _O'Ded._ Who bailed him? _Ponder._ Nobody. He's gone to jail. _O'Ded._ Gone to jail! Why _his_ poverty is owing to misfortune. He can't pay. Well, that's not our affair. The law must have its course. _Ponder._ So Shuttle said to his wife, as she hung crying on his shoulder.