We set out very gravely, walking in state, with our beads in our hands, and made towards my precinct. We paid respect to all we met, taking off our hats to the men, though we had rather have taken their cloaks; to the women we bowed low, because they are fond of respect and proud of being honoured. My worthy tutor, as he went along, would say to one creditor, “I shall receive money to-morrow;” to another, “Have patience for a day or two; the bankers put me off.” One asked him for his cloak, another for his girdle; by which I perceived he was such a true friend to his friend, that he had nothing which was his own. We went in and out from one side-walk to another, winding and turning about, to avoid the houses of creditors. Here one whipped out to demand his house-rent, there another the hire of his sword, presently a third the loan of his sheets and shirts; so that one seemed to be a gentleman on hire, like a mule. It happened he spied a man at a good distance, who, as he told me, was ready to tear him to pieces for a debt, but could not tear the money from him. To prevent being known by him, he let fall his long hair, which before was tucked up behind his ears, and looked like a shock dog that was never shorn. Then he clapped a patch upon one eye, and began to talk to me in Italian. He had time enough to do this before the other came up, who had not yet observed him. I declare I saw the man turn round and round, as a dog does before he lies down; he blessed himself as if he had been bewitched, and went away, saying, “God bless me, I durst have sworn it had been he; what a mighty mistake I had like to commit; he who has lost oxen always fancies he hears their bells.” I was ready to burst with laughing to see what a figure my friend made; he stepped into a porch to tuck up his hair again, and pull off his patch, and said, “This is the dress for denying of debts; learn, my friend, for you will see a thousand such shifts in this town.” We went on, and at the corner of a street took two slices of gingerbread and as many drams of brandy of one of the sisterhood, who gave it us for nothing, after wishing my director welcome to town, who said, “This puts a man in a condition to make shift without a dinner for this day, for at worst he is sure of so much.” It went to my very heart to think it was doubtful whether we should have any dinner, and answered him very disconsolately on behalf of my stomach, to which he replied, “You are a man of small faith, and repose little confidence in our mumping profession. God Almighty provides for the crows and jackdaws, and even for scriveners; and should he fail us poor pinchguts? You have but a poor stomach.” “You are in the right,” quoth I, “but still I fear I shall make it poorer, for there is nothing in it.”