'Thomas Bowling.'


This letter (which, with the other, was dated from Port Lonis, in
Hispaniola) I had no sooner read than the apothecary, shaking his
head, began: "I have a very great regard for Mr. Bowling that's
certain; and could be well content--but times are very hard. There's
no such thing as money to be got; I believe 'tis all vanished under
ground, for my part. Besides, I have been out of pocket already,
having entertained you since the beginning of this month, without
receiving a sixpence, and God knows if ever I shall; for I believe
it will go hard with your uncle. And more than that, I was thinking
of giving you warning, for I want your apartment for a new prentice,
whom I expect from the country every hour. So I desire you will
this week provide yourself with another lodging."

The indignation which this harangue inspired gave me spirits to
support my reverse of fortune, and to tell him I despised his mean
selfish disposition so much that I would rather starve than be
beholden to him for one single meal. Upon which, out of my pocket
money, I paid him to the last farthing of what I owed, and assured
him, I would not sleep another night under his roof.

This said, I sallied out in a transport of rage and sorrow,
without knowing whither to fly for shelter, having not one friend
in the world capable of relieving me, and only three shillings in
my purse. After giving way for a few minutes to the dictates of my
rage, I went and hired a small bedroom, at the rate of one shilling
and sixpence per week, which I was obliged to pay per advance,
before the landlord would receive me: thither I removed my luggage;