With her went the woman I mentioned before, who, it seems, has made some sort of profession, but upon this occasion allowed, herself a latitude of conduct rather inconsistent with it, having filled her apron with wearing-apparel, which she likewise intended to take care of.  She would have gone to the county gaol, had William Raban, the baker’s son, who prosecuted, insisted upon it; but he, good-naturedly, though I think weakly, interposed in her favour, and begged her off.  The young gentleman who accompanied these fair ones is the junior son of Molly Boswell.  He had stolen some iron-work, the property of Griggs the butcher.  Being convicted, he was ordered to be whipped, which operation he underwent at the cart’s tail, from the stone-house to the high arch, and back again.  He seemed to show great fortitude, but it was all an imposition upon the public.  The beadle, who performed it, had filled his left hand with yellow ochre, through which, after every stroke, he drew the lash of his whip, leaving the appearance of a wound upon the skin, but in reality not hurting him at all.  This being perceived by Mr. Constable H., who followed the beadle, he applied his cane, without any such management or precaution, to the shoulders of the too merciful executioner.  The scene immediately became more interesting.  The beadle could by no means be prevailed upon to strike hard, which provoked the constable to strike harder, and this double flogging continued, till a lass of Silver-End, pitying the pitiful beadle thus suffering under the hands of the pitiless constable, joined the procession, and placing herself immediately behind the latter, seized him by his capillary club, and pulling him backwards by the same, slapped his face with a most Amazon fury.  This concatenation of events has taken up more of my paper than I intended it should, but I could not forbear to inform you how the beadle thrashed the thief, the constable the beadle, and the lady the constable, and how the thief was the only person concerned who suffered nothing.  Mr. Teedon has been here, and is gone again.  He came to thank me for some left-off clothes.  In answer to our inquiries after his health, he replied that he had a slow fever, which made him take all possible care not to inflame his blood.  I admitted his prudence, but in his particular instance, could not very clearly discern the need of it.  Pump water will not heat him much, and, to speak a little in his own style, more inebriating fluids are to him, I fancy, not very attainable.  Ho brought us news, the truth of which, however, I do not vouch for, that the town of Bedford was actually on fire yesterday, and the flames not extinguished when the bearer of the tidings left it.