always gone on the fifth of November for forty years. My poor husband
was in a French prison, and he knew well enough what the Jacobites
are. Was he not blown up, poor fellow, in the 'Glorious?' and were not
King James and all his people to have been blown up so high by the
horrid Papist plot that I suppose they would not have been down by
this time? No Popery, I say! I would sooner crawl to church on my
hands and knees than not go to-day, young gentlemen. And then Mr.
Hassock, the kind, good curate, to ask for me!"
"Yes, and then there is the 'coal money' given on the fifth, that all
the widows in the parish may have a good fire through the winter, you
know, Goody."
"Yes, I must go to church," said Mrs. Clackett.
"That you must," said Quidd, "and I will tell you what these young
gentlemen and I will do. We will bring down the chair, and take you
there ourselves. I am sure it would please Mr. Hassock. Would it not,
Parley?"
"Yes, and the rector also," said I. "And I have no doubt but the
churchwardens would like to see Goody at church, for the tickets for
flannel petticoats are to be given away to-day."
"What is that?" said Mrs. Clackett. "Oh, yes, I could not keep away
from my church! Good young gentlemen, I shall never forget your
kindness."
We stopped to hear no more. We were overjoyed with the success of our
plot. Away we ran to our companions, and, without stopping to explain,
cried out:
"The chair! the chair! We shall have a guy, the best in the whole
country!"
So away we ran with the chair, and all our other preparations for
dressing and tying and securing.
The whole party surrounded the chair, some pushing, some pulling.
When, however, we got within a convenient distance of the old lady's
hut, Hardy and the others stepped on one side, and placed the helmet,
coat, lantern, matches, etc., under a hedge, to be ready when
required, while Quidd, Sapskull, and myself went with the chair to the
old lady's cottage.
When we got there we found her spruce and prim with her best black
silk bonnet, something in shape like a coal-scuttle, her stick in her
hand, and her shoes on her feet. We drove up the chair in fine style.
There were several cottages close by, and the neighbors came out to
see the old lady ride. At last some one who knew Quidd said:
"Why, that is the lawyer's son. Sure enough old Goody has got some
money left her."
So then there was a talking and surmising, and before Goody got to
church it was reported all over the town that she was made the
possessor of several thousand pounds prize-money; that she was to be a
lady, and ride in her carriage. Being sent for, as it was supposed, by
the lawyer must be for something--a large legacy, no doubt.
The chair wheeled on with Goody in it. The boys looked as if they were
up to something, and sure enough they were. When they came to that
part of the lane at which the various habiliments had been left, the
chair stopped, and out rushed the other conspirators.
"Do not be alarmed, Goody," said Hardy. "We are only going to make a
guy of you for an hour or two. No one shall harm you, and you shall
have all the money we get."
"I want to go to church--I want to go to church!" said the old lady,
and tried to get out of the chair.
Hardy, however, very dexterously threw some cord round the arms, and
tied the poor old creature down.
"We won't hurt you, Goody," said he. "We only want you for a guy. You
shall have all the money."
"I won't be a guy! I won't be a guy!" said Goody. "I do not want any
money. Let me out! let me out!"
She then made a blow with her broomstick, and struck Master Hardy on
the nose, from which the blood flowed freely. This, however, only made
him the more determined, and in a few minutes the poor old woman's
arms were secured as well as her legs.
"Oh, help, neighbors! They are going to burn me!" said the old lady,
and then she fell coughing, for she had long suffered from asthma.
While convulsed with this fit, the boys took the opportunity to
besmear her face with red and black paint, and to place the helmet on
her head, and the coat round her, so that the arms hung on each side
with nothing on them. The chair was then crammed with straw, and the
lantern and the matches suspended from it. In this state the chair was
wheeled rapidly along in the direction of the town.
Other boys soon joined, and surrounded the vehicle, shouting and
laughing. The old lady, made several ineffectual attempts to get out
of the chair. She called out, "A plot! a plot! a Popery plot! No
Popery! Oh! I shall be killed!" and many such exclamations. The
populace took this as a part of the character, and laughed most
heartily. The greatest number of persons thought the guy to be a boy
dressed up, and cried out that he acted his part well. No one
suspected it was old Dame Clackett.
Away they went in the midst of the hubbub, up one street and down
another, over the market-place and by the church. Just as the clock
struck twelve the boys of the Free School came from the latter place,
and joined the procession. It was now a national affair, and, as it
proceeded from the church doors, it was thought to be the church Guy
Fawkes--and so it was.
"Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted a hundred voices; and while Hardy and his
companions held on the chair, Quidd and I went about with our hats to
collect as much money as we could.
The old lady was vociferous, and struggled to get out. She flung her
arms about, and cried out, "Deliver me from the flames! Save me from
being burnt!" and everybody thought that the part of guy was acted to
perfection.
Quidd and I got a great deal of money--silver, and copper, and even
gold. Seven-shilling pieces were in circulation at that time, and the
squire and Mr. Hassock passing us, one threw sixpence and the other a
seven-shilling piece to us, for which we gave a louder cheer than
usual. In short, our hats were very nearly half full of money.
The old woman began to be more pacified as she saw the money coming
in, particularly as we put it all into her lap, and told her it should
be hers. But the sight of the squire and the curate, and the
seven-shilling piece, which latter we put into her mouth, seemed quite
to reconcile her to her fate. She became then as gentle as a lamb. She
said:
"Do as you like--do as you like, only don't burn me for a guy; and
give me a drop of something to drink."
"Oh yes," said Quidd, "here is something for you. Hold up your head."
And half a pint of good strong ale soon found its way down the throat
of the dame. After this the chair again moved on, till at last it came
to the market-place, opposite the Town Hall, where an enormous bonfire
was in preparation, over which stood a gallows.
The old lady, when she saw the gallows, screamed "Murder! fire!
brimstone!" and all sorts of horrid cries; but nobody took any heed of
it, except to laugh. They thought it was in keeping with her
character.
"We will not hurt you, we will not hurt you," said I.
But it was of no use; the old lady refused to be pacified.
Just at this moment Quidd felt a severe blow from behind, which sent
him sprawling. I also received a push or a drive, and a loud laugh
burst from those around.
When I turned to see what was the cause of the laughter, what should I
observe but Hannibal, the goat, who had, it appeared, followed his
mistress, and, being excited by her cries, dashed at my schoolfellow
in the way described. Several of the spectators now tried to seize the
goat, but he being of extraordinary strength, butted and pushed so
vigorously that several measured their length upon the earth, to the
no small merriment of the clownish persons who had collected together
to the burning of the guy.
During all this time Dame Clackett cried out loudly, and in the
confusion her chair was upset, and she became liberated from her
duress. As soon as she was free, she laid about on all sides of her
with her stick, pulled off the helmet and jacket in which she had been
nearly smothered, and cried out at the top of her voice:
"I am no guy! I am Dame Clackett! For goodness' sake do not burn me
for a witch!"
She, however, kept her apron close in which the money was, and took
care not to let the seven-shilling piece fall out of her mouth.
The mob cheered. It would have been well if this had been all, but no:
as soon as ever the old lady told her story that she had been seized
for a guy, an effort was immediately made to secure the offenders. The
constable, who happened to be present, laid hold of me and cousin
Simon; several others were seized by the bystanders; and the whole,
with the exception of Quidd, were dragged off to what in the country
is called the goose-house--that is, the cage. Quidd, lawyer-like,
contrived to get out of the scrape, leaving others in it. So we were
all put into the cage, and bolted and barred. It was very dark, and as
we were terribly frightened, we all began to howl most hideously.
As to Quidd, he went homewards, as if nothing had happened, and soon
made his reappearance, prepared for the usual squibbing and cracking,
with his pockets full of squibs and crackers. He was so pleased with
the success of the scheme in which he had been so forward an actor
that he determined to have more fun before he went to bed; so he
looked about, and it was not long before he saw a fit object, as he
thought.
At the corner of the street leading to the market-place sat poor old
Hannah Grimly, as she was called. She had sold roasted chestnuts on
the fifth of November for a score of years, and many a pinch of
gunpowder had been put under the lid of the saucepan upon which the
chestnuts were laid. Quidd determined to have a good explosion, and
took the opportunity, while the chestnuts were being put into his
hand, to introduce a packet of gunpowder into the kettle. He thought
to run away before it should ignite, but there being a small hole in
the paper, the moment it touched the fire the whole went off with a
loud explosion. Quidd's hand was shattered to pieces, and he fell
stunned with the effects of the powder. He was taken home senseless,
and put to bed.
The rest of the conspirators, including myself, were kept in the cage
all night in bitter tears. The next morning we were taken before the
magistrates. The chairman, who happened to be the very squire who had
given us the seven-shilling piece, looked very severely at us, and
said:
"This is the most horrible plot I ever heard of--seizing an old woman
for a guy! Gentlemen," said he to those around him, "if this be
permitted none of us are safe."
Some people used to call the magistrates old women, and so this raised
a laugh.
He then called to the clerk to look over the Act of Parliament to see
what could be the punishment for such an offence, but found none.
Quidd was right--there was no law against seizing an old woman for a
guy. The bench were puzzled what to do. At last Quidd's father said we
should be indicted for stealing his chair, and be put on our trial for
robbery and sacrilege--the first for the abduction of the chair, the
second for keeping the old lady _from church._
Our fathers and mothers, however, pleaded so eloquently that, after a
severe admonition, we got off upon payment of the costs and a handsome
compensation to Dame Clackett. When I reached home my father took me
into the stable and gave me a sound whipping, and at the conclusion of
the flagellation said:
"Now, Peter Parley, I think you will not again seize an old woman for
a guy!"
And I never did.
UNCLE DAVID'S NONSENSICAL STORY ABOUT GIANTS AND FAIRIES
By KATHERINE SINCLAIR
In the days of yore children were not all such clever, good, sensible
people as they are now. Lessons were then considered rather a plague,
sugar-plums were still in demand, holidays continued yet in fashion,
and toys were not then made to teach mathematics, nor storybooks to
give instruction in chemistry and navigation. These were very strange
times, and there existed at that period a very idle, greedy, naughty
boy, such as we never hear of in the present day. His father and
mother were--no matter who, and he lived--no matter where. His name
was Master No-book, and he seemed to think his eyes were made for
nothing but to stare out of the windows, and his mouth for no other
purpose but to eat. This young gentleman hated lessons like mustard,
both of which brought tears into his eyes, and during school hours he
sat gazing at his books, pretending to be busy, while his mind
wandered away to wish impatiently for dinner, and to consider where he
could get the nicest pies, pastry, ices, and jellies, while he smacked
his lips at the very thoughts of them.
Whenever Master No-book spoke it was always to ask for something, and
you might continually hear him say in a whining tone of voice:
"Father, may I take this piece of cake?" "Aunt Sarah, will you give me
an apple?" "Mother, do send me the whole of that plum-pudding."
Indeed, very frequently, when he did not get permission to gormandize,
this naughty glutton helped himself without leave. Even his dreams
were like his waking hours, for he had often a horrible nightmare
about lessons, thinking he was smothered with Greek lexicons or pelted
out of the school with a shower of English grammars, while one night
he fancied himself sitting down to devour an enormous plum-cake, and
all on a sudden it became transformed into a Latin dictionary.
One afternoon Master No-book, having played truant all day from
school, was lolling on his mother's best sofa in the drawing-room,
with his leather boots tucked up on the satin cushions, and nothing to
do but to suck a few oranges, and nothing to think of but how much
sugar to put upon them, when suddenly an event took place which filled
him with astonishment.
A sound of soft music stole into the room, becoming louder and louder
the longer he listened, till at length, in a few moments afterwards, a
large hole burst open in the wall of his room, and there stepped into
his presence two magnificent fairies, just arrived from their castles
in the air, to pay him a visit. They had traveled all the way on
purpose to have some conversation with Master No-book, and immediately
introduced themselves in a very ceremonious manner.
The fairy Do-nothing was gorgeously dressed with a wreath of flaming
gas round her head, a robe of gold tissue, a necklace of rubies, and a
bouquet in her hand of glittering diamonds. Her cheeks were rouged to
the very eyes, her teeth were set in gold, and her hair was of a most
brilliant purple; in short, so fine and fashionable-looking a fairy
never was seen in a drawing-room before. The fairy Teach-all, who
followed next, was simply dressed in white muslin, with bunches of
natural flowers in her light-brown hair, and she carried in her hand a
few neat small volumes, which Master No-book looked at with a shudder
of aversion.
The two fairies now informed him that they very often invited large
parties of children to spend some time at their palaces, but as they
lived in quite an opposite direction, it was necessary for their young
guests to choose which it would be best to visit first; therefore they
had now come to inquire of Master No-book whom he thought it would be
most agreeable to accompany on the present occasion.
"In my house," said the fairy Teach-all, speaking with a very sweet
smile and a soft, pleasing voice, "you shall be taught to find
pleasure in every sort of exertion, for I delight in activity and
diligence. My young friends rise at seven every morning, and amuse
themselves with working in a beautiful garden of flowers, rearing
whatever fruit they wish to eat, visiting among the poor, associating
pleasantly together, studying the arts and sciences, and learning to
know the world in which they live, and to fulfil the purposes for
which they have been brought into it. In short, all our amusements
tend to some useful object, either for our own improvement or the good
of others, and you will grow wiser, better, and happier every day you
remain in the palace of Knowledge."
"But in Castle Needless, where I live," interrupted the fairy
Do-nothing, rudely pushing her companion aside with an angry,
contemptuous look, "we never think of exerting ourselves for anything.
You may put your head in your pocket and your hands in your sides as
long as you choose to stay. No one is ever asked a question, that he
may be spared the trouble of answering. We lead the most fashionable
life imaginable, for nobody speaks to anybody. Each of my visitors is
quite an exclusive, and sits with his back to as many of the company
as possible, in the most comfortable arm-chair that can be contrived.
There, if you are only so good as to take the trouble of wishing for
anything, it is yours without even turning an eye round to look where
it comes from. Dresses are provided of the most magnificent kind,
which go on themselves, without your having the smallest annoyance
with either buttons or strings; games which you can play without an
effort of thought; and dishes dressed by a French cook, smoking hot
under your nose, from morning till night; while any rain we have is
either made of lemonade or lavender-water, and in winter it generally
snows iced punch for an hour during the forenoon."
Nobody need be told which fairy Master No-book preferred, and quite
charmed at his own good fortune in receiving so agreeable an
invitation, he eagerly gave his hand to the splendid new acquaintance
who promised him so much pleasure and ease, and gladly proceeded in a
carriage lined with velvet, stuffed with downy pillows, and drawn by
milk-white swans, to that magnificent residence, Castle Needless,
which was lighted by a thousand windows during the day, and by a
million of lamps every night.
Here Master No-book enjoyed a constant holiday and a constant feast,
while a beautiful lady covered with jewels was ready to tell him
stories from morning till night, and servants waited to pick up his
playthings if they fell, or to draw out his purse or his
pocket-handkerchief when he wished to use them.
Thus Master No-book lay dozing for hours and days on rich embroidered
cushions, never stirring from his place, but admiring the view of
trees covered with the richest burnt almonds, grottoes of sugar-candy,
a _jet d'eau_ of champagne, a wide sea which tasted of sugar instead
of salt, and a bright, clear pond, filled with gold fish that let
themselves be caught whenever he pleased. Nothing could be more
complete, and yet, very strange to say, Master No-book did not seem
particularly happy. This appears exceedingly unreasonable, when so
much trouble was taken to please him; but the truth is that every day
he became more fretful and peevish. No sweetmeats were worth the
trouble of eating, nothing was pleasant to play at, and in the end he
wished it were possible to sleep all day, as well as all night.
Not a hundred miles from the fairy Do-nothing's palace there lived a
most cruel monster called the giant Snap-'em-up, who looked, when he
stood up, like the tall steeple of a great church, raising his head so
high that he could peep over the loftiest mountains, and was obliged
to climb up a ladder to comb his own hair.
Every morning regularly this prodigiously great giant walked round the
world before breakfast for an appetite, after which he made tea in a
large lake, used the sea as a slop-basin, and boiled his kettle on
Mount Vesuvius. He lived in great style, and his dinners were most
magnificent, consisting very often of an elephant roasted whole,
ostrich patties, a tiger smothered in onions, stewed lions, and whale
soup; but for a side-dish his greatest favorite consisted of little
boys, as fat as possible, fried in crumbs of bread, with plenty of
pepper and salt.
No children were so well fed or in such good condition for eating as
those in the fairy Do-nothing's garden, who was a very particular
friend of the giant Snap-'em-up's, and who sometimes laughingly said
she would give him a license, and call her own garden his "preserve,"
because she always allowed him to help himself, whenever he pleased,
to as many of her visitors as he chose, without taking the trouble to
even count them; and in return for such extreme civility, the giant
very frequently invited her to dinner.
Snap-'em-up's favorite sport was to see how many brace of little boys
he could bag in a morning; so, in passing along the streets, he peeped
into all the drawing-rooms, without having occasion to get upon
tiptoe, and picked up every young gentleman who was idly looking out
of the windows, and even a few occasionally who were playing truant
from school; but busy children seemed always somehow quite out of his
reach.
One day, when Master No-book felt even more lazy, more idle, and more
miserable than ever, he lay beside a perfect mountain of toys and
cakes, wondering what to wish for next, and hating the very sight of
everything and everybody. At last he gave so loud a yawn of weariness
and disgust that his jaw very nearly fell out of joint, and then he
sighed so deeply that the giant Snap-'em-up heard the sound as he
passed along the road after breakfast, and instantly stepped into the
garden, with his glass at his eye, to see what was the matter.
Immediately, on observing a large, fat, overgrown boy, as round as a
dumpling, lying on a bed of roses, he gave a cry of delight, followed
by a gigantic peal of laughter, which was heard three miles off, and
picking up Master No-book between his finger and thumb, with a pinch
that very nearly broke his ribs, he carried him rapidly towards his
own castle, while the fairy Do-nothing laughingly shook her head as he
passed, saying:
"That little man does me great credit. He has only been fed for a
week, and is as fat already as a prize ox. What a dainty morsel he
will be! When do you dine to-day, in case I should have time to look
in upon you?"
On reaching home the giant immediately hung up Master No-book by the
hair of his head, on a prodigious hook in the larder, having first
taken some large lumps of nasty suet, forcing them down his throat to
make him become still fatter, and then stirring the fire, that he
might be almost melted with heat, to make his liver grow larger. On a
shelf quite near Master No-book perceived the bodies of six other
boys, whom he remembered to have seen fattening in the fairy
Do-nothing's garden, while he recollected how some of them had
rejoiced at the thoughts of leading a long, useless, idle life, with
no one to please but themselves.
The enormous cook now seized hold of Master No-book, brandishing her
knife with an aspect of horrible determination, intending to kill him,
while he took the trouble of screaming and kicking in the most
desperate manner, when the giant turned gravely round, and said that,
as pigs were considered a much greater dainty when whipped to death
than killed in any other way, he meant to see whether children might
not be improved by it also; therefore she might leave that great hog
of a boy till he had time to try the experiment, especially as his own
appetite would be improved by the exercise. This was a dreadful
prospect for the unhappy prisoner, but meantime it prolonged his life
a few hours, as he was immediately hung up in the larder and left to
himself. There, in torture of mind and body, like a fish upon a hook,
the wretched boy began at last to reflect seriously upon his former
ways, and to consider what a happy home he might have had, if he could
only have been satisfied with business and pleasure succeeding each
other, like day and night, while lessons might have come in as a
pleasant sauce to his play-hours, and his play-hours as a sauce to his
lessons.