Ithappenedonenightthatthispoorfellow,whethersomebodyhadgivenhimtoomuchdrinkorno—JohnHaywardsaidhehadnotdrinkinhishouse,butthattheyhadgivenhimalittlemorevictualsthanordinaryatapublic—houseinColemanStreet—andthepoorfellow,havingnotusuallyhadabellyfulforperhapsnotagoodwhile,waslaidallalonguponthetopofabulkorstall,andfastasleep,atadoorinthestreetnearLondonWall,towardsCripplegate—,andthatuponthesamebulkorstallthepeopleofsomehouse,inthealleyofwhichthehousewasacorner,hearingabellwhichtheyalwaysrangbeforethecartcame,hadlaidabodyreallydeadoftheplaguejustbyhim,thinking,too,thatthispoorfellowhadbeenadeadbody,astheotherwas,andlaidtherebysomeoftheneighbours。
Accordingly,whenJohnHaywardwithhisbellandthecartcamealong,findingtwodeadbodieslieuponthestall,theytookthemupwiththeinstrumenttheyusedandthrewthemintothecart,and,allthiswhilethepipersleptsoundly。
Fromhencetheypassedalongandtookinotherdeadbodies,till,ashonestJohnHaywardtoldme,theyalmostburiedhimaliveinthecart;yetallthiswhilehesleptsoundly。Atlengththecartcametotheplacewherethebodiesweretobethrownintotheground,which,asI
doremember,wasatMountMill;andasthecartusuallystoppedsometimebeforetheywerereadytoshootoutthemelancholyloadtheyhadinit,assoonasthecartstoppedthefellowawakedandstruggledalittletogethisheadoutfromamongthedeadbodies,when,raisinghimselfupinthecart,hecalledout,\'Hey！whereamI？\'
Thisfrightedthefellowthatattendedaboutthework;butaftersomepauseJohnHayward,recoveringhimself,said,\'Lord,blessus！