father, who died soon after their union. An excellent cook in a plain
way--indeed, she had no practice in any other--she would brew strong ale
and mead, or mix a sack-posset with, any innkeeper in the city.
Moreover, she was a careful and tender nurse, if her services were ever
required in that capacity. The children looked upon her as a second
mother; and her affection for them, which was unbounded, deserved their
regard. She was a perfect storehouse of what are termed "old women's
receipts;" and there were few complaints (except the plague) for which
she did not think herself qualified to prescribe and able to cure. Her
skill in the healing art was often tested by her charitable mistress,
who required her to prepare remedies, as well as nourishing broths, for
such of the poor of the parish as applied to her for relief at times of
sickness.

Her son, Blaize, was a stout, stumpy fellow, about four feet ten, with a
head somewhat too large for his body, and extremely long arms. Ever
since the plague had broken out in Drury-lane, it haunted him like a
spectre, and scattered the few faculties he possessed. In vain he tried
to combat his alarm--in vain his mother endeavoured to laugh him out of
it. Nothing would do. He read the bills of mortality daily; ascertained
the particulars of every case; dilated upon the agonies of the
sufferers; watched the progress of the infection, and calculated the
time it would take to reach Wood-street. He talked of the pestilence by
day, and dreamed of it at night; and more than once alarmed the house by
roaring for assistance, under the idea that he was suddenly attacked. By
his mother's advice, he steeped rue, wormwood, and sage in his drink,
till it was so abominably nauseous that he could scarcely swallow it,
and carried a small ball in the hollow of his hand, compounded of wax,
angelica, camphor, and other drugs. He likewise chewed a small piece of
Virginian snake-root, or zedoary, if he approached any place supposed to