Good fortune seemed resolved not to come alone. Another footman from the same family followed, with a card for my daughters, importing, that the two ladies had received such pleasing accounts from Mr. Thornhill of us all, that, after a few previous enquiries, they hoped to be perfectly satisfied. “Ay,” cried my wife, “I now see it is no easy matter to get into the families of the great; but when one once gets in, then, as Moses says, one may go sleep.” To this piece of humour, for she intended it for wit, my daughters assented with a loud laugh of pleasure. In short, such was her satisfaction at this message, that she actually put her hand in her pocket, and gave the messenger seven-pence halfpenny.
This was to be our visiting-day. The next that came was Mr. Burchell, who had been at the fair. He brought my little ones a pennyworth of gingerbread each, which my wife undertook to keep for them, and give them by letters at a time. He brought my daughters also a couple of boxes, in which they might keep wafers, snuff, patches, or even money, when they got it. My wife was usually fond of a weasel-skin purse, as being the most lucky; but this by the by. We had still a regard for Mr. Burchell, though his late rude behaviour was in some measure displeasing; nor could we now avoid communicating our happiness to him, and asking his advice: although we seldom followed advice, we were all ready enough to ask it. When he read the note from the two ladies, he shook his head, and observed, that an affair of this sort demanded the utmost circumspection.—This air of diffidence highly displeased my wife. “I never doubted, Sir,” cried she, “your readiness to be against my daughters and me. You have more circumspection than is wanted. However, I fancy when we come to ask advice, we will apply to persons who seem to have made use of it themselves.”—“Whatever my own conduct may have been, madam,” replied he, “is not the present question; though as I have made no use of advice myself, I should in conscience give it to those that will.”—As I was apprehensive this answer might draw on a repartee, making up by abuse what it wanted in wit, I changed the subject, by seeming to wonder what could keep our son so long at the fair, as it was now almost nightfall.—“Never mind our son,” cried my wife, “depend upon it he knows what he is about. I’ll warrant we’ll never see him sell his hen of a rainy day. I have seen him buy such bargains as would amaze one. I’ll tell you a good story about that, that will make you split your sides with laughing—But as I live, yonder comes Moses, without an horse, and the box at his back.”
As she spoke, Moses came slowly on foot, and sweating under the deal box, which he had strapped round his shoulders like a pedlar.—“Welcome, welcome, Moses; well, my boy, what have you brought us from the fair?”—“I have brought you myself,” cried Moses, with a sly look, and resting the box on the dresser.—“Ay, Moses,” cried my wife, “that we know, but where is the horse?” “I have sold him,” cried Moses, “for three pounds five shillings and twopence.”—“Well done, my good boy,” returned she, “I knew you would touch them off. Between ourselves, three pounds five shillings and twopence is no bad day’s work. Come, let us have it then.”—“I have brought back no money,” cried Moses again. “I have laid it all out in a bargain, and here it is,” pulling out a bundle from his breast: “here they are; a gross of green spectacles, with silver rims and shagreen cases.”—“A gross of green spectacles!” repeated my wife in a faint voice. “And you have parted with the Colt, and brought us back nothing but a gross of green paltry spectacles!”—“Dear mother,” cried the boy, “why won’t you listen to reason? I had them a dead bargain, or I should not have bought them. The silver rims alone will sell for double money.”—“A fig for the silver rims,” cried my wife, in a passion: “I dare swear they won’t sell for above half the money at the rate of broken silver, five shillings an ounce.”—“You need be under no uneasiness,” cried I, “about selling the rims; for they are not worth sixpence, for I perceive they are only copper varnished over.”—“What,” cried my wife, “not silver, the rims not silver!” “No,” cried I, “no more silver than your saucepan.”—“And so,” returned she, “we have parted with the Colt, and have only got a gross of green spectacles, with copper rims and shagreen cases! A murrain take such trumpery. The blockhead has been imposed upon, and should have known his company better.”—“There, my dear,” cried I, “you are wrong, he should not have known them at all.”—“Marry, hang the idiot,” returned she, “to bring me such stuff, if I had them, I would throw them in the fire.” “There again you are wrong, my dear,” cried I; “for though they be copper, we will keep them by us, as copper spectacles, you know, are better than nothing.”
By this time the unfortunate Moses was undeceived. He now saw that he had indeed been imposed upon by a prowling sharper, who, observing his figure, had marked him for an easy prey. I therefore asked the circumstances of his deception. He sold the horse, it seems, and walked the fair in search of another. A reverend looking man brought him to a tent, under pretence of having one to sell. “Here,” continued Moses, “we met another man, very well dressed, who desired to borrow twenty pounds upon these, saying, that he wanted money, and would dispose of them for a third of the value. The first
