‘love with a rich corn-factor’s purſe, which was as big with gold as its owner’s belly with greaſe. But, from the helpleſſneſs of the weighty bag, my gripe failed; I was catched in the fact, ſecured, and brought to trial, under the odious character of a cut-purſe, though I by no means deſerved the title in a diſhonourable ſenſe. I had formerly, in truth, cut purſes enough, but I never cut away any man’s money-bag, as the accuſation ran, but all that I had taken came into my hand of their own accord, as if they were returning to their rightful owner. Theſe diſtinctions, however juſt, availed me nothing; I was ſet in the ſtocks, and my ill ſtars decreed that I ſhould be a ſecond time ſentenced to be flogged out of my ſtation. I, however, watched my opportunity, ſlipped quietly out of priſon, and ſo waved the troubleſome ceremony.
‘I was now quite undetermined to what I ſhould betake myſelf to ward
