As we were passing by the door of a little brandy-shop, who should be sitting upon an old worm-eaten bench, but _Sam Scott_ the Fiddle-seller, and _Will. Elder_ the graver, each with a huge _Dutch_ pipe of infernal mundungus in their mouths smoaking for two penny-worth of anniseed-water. _Sam. Scott_ had one while got the start of him, which _Will Elder_ perceiving, exercised his lungs so very strenuously, that he overtook him at the last whiff, which they discharg’d with such remarkable exactness, that none of the standers by could undertake to decide the wager: when their pipes were out, we saluted one another with abundance of friendship, and _Sam. Scott_ having an ascendency over the house, invited us to take part of a bowl of punch, and just as we were stepping in, who should come by but _O----n P----ce_ that dy’d drunk at the _Dog_-tavern in the company of my friend _Weden_: mighty joyful we were to meet thus fortunately together; and to crown the happy juncture with an hour’s mirth, we stept into the little conveniency, every soul seating himself upon an empty rundlet like a godson of _Bacchus_, in order to receive the promis’d blessing: by that time we had every one ramm’d a full charge of sot-weed into our infernal guns, in order to fumify our immortalities, the scull of _Goliah_ was brought in for a punch-bowl fill’d with such incomparable _Heliconian_ juice, that six drops of it would make a man a better poet than either _Shakespear_ or _Ben. Johnson_: by that time a cup or two were gone about to _Pluto_ and my lady _Proserpine_, we began to fall into a merry inquisition about one another’s damnation: prithee _Sam. Scott_, said I, what the devil were you damn’d for? why, I’ll tell you, says _Sam_. I was found guilty of a couple of indictments, one was for consuming 975 papers of tobacco in six months, without any assistance, to the poisoning of many a ptisicky citizen about _Temple-bar_; and the other was smoaking my dog to death without any provocation. Come, _Bob Weeden_, said I ’tis your turn next, let us go round with it, prithee what charge did the hellish informers bring against you? To tell you the truth, says he, they prov’d me guilty of two great crimes too, one was for dealing by my friends very knavishly: and the other was for living by my wits very foolishly. Come, captain _Dawson_, says the company, what sort of conviction are you under? as for my part, _gentlemen_, said he, the chief thing that condemn’d me, was the sin of forgetfulness; ’twas only for bilking my lodging, and being so careless to leave my perriwig-come behind me. Well, neighbour _P----ce_, said I, what was it brought you into these territories? ’twas for living like a rake, says he, without money, and dying drunk in a tavern with twelve shillings in my pocket. _Will. Elder_ being the last, we summ’d up our enquiry with his confession; truly says he, mine was a very great fault I must