laughing, and as I have occasionally looked at a fool and laughed, though I was not the fool in this instance, I put my pipe into my mouth and said no more. This quiet and well-regulated behaviour of mine, however the fellow interpreted into fear; so, after drinking a little more, he suddenly started up, and striding once or twice before the table, he asked me what I meant by that impertinent question of mine, saying that he had a good mind to wring my nose for my presumption. ‘You have?’ said I, getting up, and laying down my pipe. ‘Well, I’ll now give you an opportunity.’ So I put myself in an attitude, and went up to him, saying: ‘I have an old score to settle with you, you scamp; you wanted to get me turned out of the club, didn’t you?’ And thereupon, remembering that he had threatened to wring my nose, I gave him a snorter upon his own. I wish you could have seen the fellow when he felt the smart; so far from trying to defend himself, he turned round, and with his hand to his face, attempted to run away; but I was now in a regular passion, and following him up, got before him, and was going to pummel away at him, when he burst into tears, and begged me not to hurt him, saying that he was sorry if he had offended me, and that, if I pleased, he would go down on his knees, or do anything else I wanted. Well, when I heard him talk in this manner, I, of course, let him be; I could hardly help laughing at the figure he cut; his face all blubbered with tears, and blood and paint; but I did not laugh at the poor creature either, but went to the table and took up my pipe, and smoked and drank as if nothing had happened; and the fellow, after having been to the pump, came and sat down, crying and trying to curry favour with me and the coachman; presently, however, putting on a confidential look, he began to talk of the Popish house, and of the doings there, and said he supposed as how we were of the party, and that it was all right; and then he began to talk of the Pope of Rome, and what a nice man he was, and what a fine thing it was to be of his religion, especially if folks went over to him; and how it advanced them in the world, and gave them consideration; and how his master, who had been abroad and seen the Pope, and kissed his toe, was going over to the Popish religion, and had persuaded him to consent to do so, and to forsake his own, which I think the scoundrel called the ’Piscopal Church of Scotland, and how many others of that Church were going over, thinking to better their condition in life by so doing, and to be more thought on; and how many of the English Church were thinking of going over too, and that he had no doubt that it would all end right and comfortably. Well, as he was going on in this way, the old coachman began to spit, and getting up, flung all the beer that was in his jug upon the ground, and going away, ordered another jug of beer, and sat down at another table, saying that he would not drink in such company;