which nowadays so generally nips the bloom and bonhomie of all
except the two extremes of the social scale.

Shepherd Fennel had married well, his wife being a dairyman's daughter
from the valley below, who brought fifty guineas in her pocket--and
kept them there till they should be required for ministering to
the needs of a coming family. This frugal woman had been somewhat
exercised as to the character that should be given to the gathering.
A sit-still party had its advantages; but an undisturbed position
of ease in chairs and settles was apt to lead on the men to such
an unconscionable deal of toping that they would sometimes fairly
drink the house dry. A dancing-party was the alternative; but this,
while avoiding the foregoing objection on the score of good drink,
had a counterbalancing disadvantage in the matter of good victuals,
the ravenous appetites engendered by the exercise causing immense
havoc in the buttery. 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