“Well, never mind about that, his lordship aint half so happy as we are, I’ll bet a crown,” said another of the company. “Who’s for the next song? Come, Nelly, can’t you give us something soft and sentimental, eh?”
“Nay; I must be for getting home,” answered the girl, “an’ leave you men folks to yourselves.”
She was about to depart, but as Peace had commenced a preliminary flourish on his violin, she sat down again.
The violinist played a fantasia, introducing a number of popular airs which seemed to delight his audience amazingly.
When he brought this part of his performance to a close he was encored.
He then imitated the noises of animals in the farm-yard; this sent the rustics into perfect ecstacies of delight.
“They had never heard anything so perfectly natural in their born days”—so they one and all declared.
“Well, thee just does know how to handle the fiddle,” said one.
“And mek it speak like a Christian,” said another.
“It be a gift,” observed another.