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hair-dresser's shop in your way, desire them to send some body here for my wig; and like enough they may tell you, at the same time, where there is an honest Town cryer to be badhad [sic]; I'll have Phebe's black whelp cry'd directly; and hark ye, Jonathan, you may say as though the dog were your own, you understand, they will expect such a devil of a reward else; and pri'thee man! step into the corn market, if thou can'st find out the way, and enquire the price of oats.

Jon. Yes, please your honour, but am I to go trudging about to all these places with that great heavy trunk upon my shoulder?

Roy. No! numskull! did I not bid you carry it to the Inn, where the London stage puts up? by the bye you had better take it to the waggon—but first ask the coachman, what he charges for the carriage: you can take it to the waggon afterwards. I will suffer no man to impose upon me; you will remember all this distinctly now, as I have told it you Jonathan?

''Jon. (counting to himself upon his fingers)'' O yes, your honour! I'll manage it all I warrant!

Roy. What a world of business I have upon my hands, Humphry, I am as busy as a minister of state.

Jon. La your honour! I have forgot all about his Grace, and the black whelp.

Roy. Damn your muddle pate; did not I bid