CHAP. IX.
Containing Matters of no very peaceable Colour.
Molly had no ſooner apparelled herſelf in her accuſtomed Rags, than her Siſters began to fall violently upon her; particularly her elder Siſter, who told her ſhe was well enough ſerved. ‘How had ſhe the Aſſurance to wear a Gown which young Madam Weſtern had given to Mother! If one of us was to wear it, I think,’ ſays ſhe, ‘I myſelf have the beſt Right; but I warrant you think it belongs to your Beauty. I ſuppoſe you think yourſelf more handſomer than any of us.’ ‘Hand her down the Bit of Glaſs from over the Cupboard,’ cries another, ‘I’d waſh the Blood from my Face before I tauked of my Beauty.’ ‘You’d better have minded what the Parſon ſays,’ cries the eldeſt, ‘and not a harkened after Men Voke.’ ‘Indeed, Child, and ſo ſhe had,’ ſays the Mother ſobbing, ‘ſhe hath brought a Diſgrace upon us all. She’s the vurſt of the ſamily that ever was a Whore.’ ‘You need not upbraid me with that, Mo-‘ther,
