Shepherdess Fennel fell back upon the
intermediate plan of mingling short dances with short periods of
talk and singing, so as to hinder any ungovernable rage in either.
But this scheme was entirely confined to her own gentle mind; the
shepherd himself was in the mood to exhibit the most reckless phases
of hospitality.
The fiddler was a boy of those parts, about twelve years of age,
who had a wonderful dexterity in jigs and reels, though his fingers
were so small and short as to necessitate a constant shifting for
the high notes, from which he scrambled back to the first position
with sounds not of unmixed purity of tone. At seven the shrill
"tweedledee" of this youngster had begun, accompanied by a booming
ground bass from Elijah New, the parish clerk, who had thoughtfully
brought with him his favourite musical instrument, the serpent. Dancing
was instantaneous, Mrs. Fennel privately enjoining the players on
no account to let the dance exceed the length of a quarter of an
hour.
But Elijah and the boy, in the excitement of their position, quite
forgot the injunction. Moreover, Oliver Giles, a man of seventeen,
one of the dancers, who was enamoured of his partner, a fair girl of
thirty-three rolling years, had recklessly handed a new crown-piece
to the musicians as a bribe to keep going as long as they had muscle
and wind.
Pages:
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124