But still the shrinking lady, and another, unused to jostle with rough crowds, were left standing outside the pale.
Impetuous Joshua had begun the service before all were settled. “Forasmuch as it hath pleased——”
His quick eye caught the outstanding figures. Abruptly stopping his exordium, he exclaimed, in his harsh tones, which seemed to intimidate the lady,
“What are you standing there for? Can’t you find a place? Make room here!” (pushing two women apart by the shoulder), “thrutch up closer there! Make haste, and kneel here!” (to the lady, pulling her forward). “You come here;—make room, will you?” and having pulled and pushed them into place, he resumed the service.
Presently there was another outburst. There had been a hushing of whimpering babies, and a maternal smothering of infantile cries, as a chorus throughout; but one fractious little one screamed right out, and refused to be comforted. The nervous tremor on that kneeling lady’s countenance might have told to whom it belonged, had Joshua been a skilful reader of hearts and faces. His irritable temper got the better of him. He broke off in the midst of the psalm to call out, “stop that crying child!” The crying child did not stop. In the midst of another verse he bawled, “Give that screaming babby the breast!” He went on. The clerk had pronounced the “Amen” at the end of the psalm; the chaplain followed, “Let us pray;” but before he began the prayer, he again shouted, “Take that squalling babby out!”—an order the indignant nurse precipitately obeyed; and the service ended without further interruption.
Then followed the christenings, and another marshalling (this time of godfathers and godmothers, with the infants they presented), in which the hasty chaplain did his part with hands and voice until all were arranged to his satisfaction.
It so happened that the tanner’s group and the lady’s group were ranked side by side. The latter was Mrs. Aspinall, the wife of a wealthy cotton merchant, who, with two other gentlemen and a lady, stood behind her, and this time gave her their much-needed support. Indeed, what with the damp and chillness of the church, and the agitation, the delicate lady appeared ready to faint.
“Hath this child been already baptised or no?” asked Joshua Brookes, and was passing on, when Simon’s unexpected response arrested him.
“Aw dunnot know.”
“Don’t know? How’s that? What are you here for?” were questions huddled one on the other, in a broader vernacular than I have thought well to put in the mouth of a man so deeply learned.