She rememberr'd me at once, and seme'd mitily gladd to see me.Mem.Her pritty blu eys wear fill'd with teares wen she thank'd me for having studd up to be her champyun at ye Fare.

So you see, Mrs.Ruth, ye brotherr is more thort off in London than with them which hav ye rite to regard him bestt.

If you had scen ye pore simpel childeish creetur and heeard her tell her arteless tale, I think y'r kinde hart w'd have bin sore to considder so much unmiritted misfortun: ye father is in pore helth, a captiv, ye mother has binn dedd thre yeres, and ye pore orfann girl, Mollie, has to mentane ye burden of ye sick father, and a yung helples sister.

Think of this, kinde Mrs.Ruth, in y'r welthy home.Mem.Pore Mrs.Mollie is prittier than ye fineist ladies that wear to be sene at ye opening of ye grand new roome at Ranellar this spring last past, wear I sor ye too Miss Gunings and Lady Harvey, wich is alsoe accounted a grate buty." I think this extract goes very far to prove that my friend Matthew was considerably smitten by the pretty young woman whose champion he had been in some row at Bartholomew Fair.

This fits into one of the scraps of information afforded by my ancient inhabitant in Ullerton Almshouses, who remembers having heard his grandfather talk of Mat Haygarth's part in some fight or disturbance at the great Smithfield festival.
My next extract treats again of Mollie, after an interval of four months.