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In a paper of the Tatler, written by Addison or Steele, or possibly by both, is described a party in a country village which is suddenly broken into confusion by the entrance of the sexton of their parish church, fresh from the digging of a grave. The sexton tells the merrymakers how a chance blow of his pickaxe has opened a decayed coffin, in which are discovered several papers.
It would not do to get angry with half a dozen jovial Frenchmen. "All Coons Look alike to Me," I recognized, though they sang but fragments of the text. Through a corner of my eye I saw them all anxiously staring at me; then one of the merrymakers came over to me.
"Thank you, sir baron," was the proud retort, "but I have learnt ere now how to hold the lance, and can wield the mace;" and without deigning to cast a look behind him he strode away in an ill humour with himself and everybody else, to scowl in silence at the group of merrymakers on the green.
They rolled the barrels some distance across the sand, and proceeded to enjoy themselves. The excited Greek barmen, early discovering the loss, turned out the guard. Following the tracks in the sand, they soon found the merrymakers, routed them, and recovered a little beer. The guard took their toll, and returned the balance to the outraged Greeks.
Our nearest way is towards that holly-bush with the dark shadow that you see down there." Eustacia arose, and walked beside him in the direction signified, brushing her way over the damping heath and fern, and followed by the strains of the merrymakers, who still kept up the dance.
Even Sid DuPree and Silvey and the rest of the "Tigers" had only derisive laughter. It was the first time in his life that he had been made to feel ridiculous and he liked it not at all. He felt strangely out of place and stood to one side of the yard, a scowl on his face, glaring at the throng of merrymakers.
The merrymakers of Boulogne, having started from the Place de la Senechaussee, were making the round of the town by the wide avenue which tops the ramparts. They were coming past the Fort Gayole, shouting, singing, brass trumpets in front, big drum ahead, drenched, hot, and hoarse, but supremely happy.
Nick and the master-player came down Ludgate Hill to Blackfriars landing in a stream of merrymakers, high and low, rich and poor, faring forth to London's greatest thoroughfare, the Thames; and as the river and the noble mansions along the Strand came into view, Nick's heart beat fast. It was a sight to stir the pulse.
There were more pretentious two-seated cut-unders and stout buckboards, loaded down with merrymakers, four on a seat meant for two; there were rattle-trap phaetons and comfortable carry-alls drawn by steady spans; and, now and then, mule teams bringing happy negroes, ready to squander all on the first Georgia watermelons and cider.
Late that night, when all the merrymakers had gone to their homes, Tremaine sat smoking in the moonlight on the terrace of the Moat House. "It is strange," he said to himself, "what a hold the Christian myth has taken upon the minds of the English people, and especially of the working classes.
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