I carry my qualification to the Navy Office — the nature of it — the behaviour of the Secretary — Strap’s concern for my absence — a battle betwixt him a blacksmith — the troublesome consequences of it — his harangue to me — his friend the schoolmaster recommends me to a French Apothecary, who entertains me as a journeyman

I would most willingly have gone home to sleep, but was told by my companions, that we must deliver our letters of qualification at the Navy office, before one o’clock. Accordingly, we went thither, and gave them to the secretary, who opened and read them, and I was mightily pleased to find myself qualified for second mate of a third-rate. When he had stuck them all together on a file, one of our company asked if there were any vacancies; to which interrogation he answered “No!” Then I ventured to inquire if may ships were to be put in commission soon. At which question he surveyed me with a look of ineffable contempt; and, pushing us out of his office, locked the door without deigning us another word. We went down stairs, and conferred together on our expectations, when I understood that each of them had been recommended to one or other of the commissioners, and each of them promised the first vacancy that should fall; but that none of them relied solely upon that interest, without a present to the secretary, with whom some of the commissioners went snacks. For which reason, each of them had provided a small purse; and I was asked what I proposed to give This was a vexatious question to me who (far from being in a capacity to gratify a ravenous secretary) had not wherewithal to purchase a dinner. I therefore answered, I had not yet determined what to give; and sneaked off toward my own lodging, lamenting my fate all the way, and inveighing with much bitterness against the barbarity of my grandfather, and the sordid avarice of my relations, who left me a prey to contempt and indigence.

Full of these disagreeable reflections, I arrived at the house where I lodged, and relieved my landlord from great anxiety on my account; for this honest man believed I had met with some dismal accident, and that he never should see me again. Strap, who had come to visit me in the morning, understanding I had been abroad all night, was almost distracted, and after having obtained leave of his master, had gone in quest of me, though he was even more ignorant of the town than I. Not being willing to inform the landlord of my adventure, I told him I had met an acquaintance at Surgeons’ Hall, with whom I spent the evening and night; but being very much infested with bugs, I had not slept much, and therefore intended to take a little repose; so saying, I went to bed, and desired to be awakened if Strap should happen to come wile I should be asleep. I was accordingly roused by my friend himself, who entered my chamber about three o’clock in the afternoon, and presented a figure to my eyes that I could scarce believe real. In short, this affectionate shaver, setting out towards Surgeons’ Hall, had inquired for me there to no purpose: from whence he found his way to the Navy Office, where he could hear no tidings of me, because I was unknown to everybody then present; he afterwards went upon ‘Change, in hopes of seeing me upon the Scotch walk, but without success. At last, being almost in despair of finding me, he resolved to ask everybody he met in the street, if perchance anyone could give him information about me! and actually put his resolution in practice, in spite of the scoffs, curses, and reproaches with which he was answered; until a blacksmith’s ‘prentice seeing him stop a porter with a burden on his back, and hearing his question, for which he received a hearty curse, called to him, and asked if the person he inquired after was not a Scotchman? Strap replied with great eagerness, “Yes, and had on a brown coat, with long skirts.” “The same!” said the blacksmith. “I saw him pass by an hour ago,” “Did you so?” cried Strap, rubbing his hands, “Odd! I am very glad of that — which way went he?” “Towards Tyburn in a cart,” said he, “if you make good speed, you may get thither time enough to see him hanged.” This piece of wit incensed my friend to such a degree, that he called the blacksmith scoundrel, and protested he would fight him for half-a-farthing. “No, no!” said the other, stripping; “I’ll have none of your money — you Sootchmen seldom carry anything about you; but I’ll fight you for love.” Were was a ring immediately formed by the mob: and Strap, finding he could not get off honourably without fighting, at the same time burning with resentment against his adversary, quitted his clothes to the care of the multitude, and the battle began with great violence on the side of Strap, who in a few minutes exhausted his breath and spirits on his patient antagonist, who sustained the assault with great coolness, till finding the barber quite spent, he returned the blows he had lent him, with such interest, that Strap, after having received three falls on the hard stones, gave out, and allowed the blacksmith to be the better man.

The victory being thus decided, it was proposed to adjourn to a cellar hard by, and drink friends. But when my friend began to gather up his clothes, he perceived that some honest person or other had made free with his shirt, neckcloth, hat, and wig, which were carried off; and probably his coat and waistcoat would have met with the same fate, had they been worth stealing. It was in vain for him to make a noise, which only yielded mirth to the spectators; he was fain to get off in this manner, which he accomplished with much difficulty and appeared before me all besmeared with blood and dirt. Notwithstanding this misfortune, such was his transport at finding me safe and sound, that he had almost stifled and stunk me to death with his embraces. After he had cleaned himself, and put on one of my shirts, and a woollen. nightcap, I recounted to him the particulars of my night’s campaign, which filled him with admiration, and made him repeat with great energy an observation which was often in his mouth, namely, ‘that surely London is the devil’s drawing-room.’ As neither of us had dined, he desired me to get up, and the milkwoman coming round at that instant, he went downstairs, and brought up a quart, with a penny loaf, on which we made a comfortable meal. He then shared his money with me, which amounted to eighteen-pence, and left me with an intention to borrow an old wig and hat of his friend the schoolmaster.

He was no sooner gone, than I began to consider my situation with great uneasiness, and revolved all the schemes my imagination could suggest, in order to choose and pursue some one that would procure me bread; for it is impossible to express the pangs I felt, when I reflected on the miserable dependence in which I lived at the expen............