ABSTRACT
IN the first row then of the first gallery did Mr. Jones, Mrs. Miller, her youngest daughter, and Partridge, take their places. Partridge immediately declared it was the finest place he had ever been in. When the first music was played, he said, ‘It was a wonder how so many fiddlers could play at one time, without putting one another out.’ While the fellow was lighting the upper candles, he cried out to Mrs. Miller, ‘Look, look, madam, the very picture of the man in the end of the common-prayer book before the gunpowder-treason service.’ Nor could he help observing, with a sigh, when all the candles were lighted, ‘That here were candles enough burnt in one night to keep an honest poor family for a whole twelvemonth.’
