Page:Life's little ironies (1894).pdf/255

“'Not if the angels of Heaven,’ says the squire, (he was a wickedish man, the squire was, though now for once he happened to be on the Lord’s side)—‘ not if the angels of Heaven come down,’ he says, ‘shall one of you villanous players ever sound a note in thie church again; for the ingult to me, and my family, and my visitors, and God Almighty, that you've a-perpetrated this afternoon!’

“Then the unfortunate charch band came to their senses, and remembered where they were; and "twas a sight to see Nicholas Puddingecome and Timothy Thomas and John Biles ereep down the gallery stairs with their fiddles under their arms, and poor Dan’ Horahead with his serpeut, and Robert Dowdle with his clarionet, all looking as little as ninepins ; and out they went. The pa’son might have forgi’ed ’em when he learned the truth o’t, but the squire would not, That very week he sent for a barrel-organ that would play two-and-twenty new psalm tunes, so exact and partioular that, however sinful inclined you was, you could play nothing but psalm tunes whatsomever. He had a really respectable man to turn the winch, as I said, and the old players played no more.”

“ And, of course, my old acquaintance, the annuitant, Mrs. Winter, who always seemed to have something on her mind, is dead and gone?” said the homecomer, after a long silence.

Nobody in the van seemed to recollect the name.

“Oh yes, she must be dead long since; she was seventy when I as a child knew her,” he added.

“I can recollect Mrs. Winter very well, if nobody else can,” said the aged groceress, “Yes, she’s been dead these five-and-twenty year at least. You knew what it was upon her mind, sir, that gave her that hollow-eyed look, I suppose ?”