"I do know the law," said Quidd. "Have I not been bred to it? And is not my father to be made Recorder next year?"
"Well, then, answer me this," said Simon. "Is there any law against seizing an old woman for a guy?"
The next morning Sapskull and myself, with Thomas Hardy and half a dozen other boys, met with a view to talk about the intended exploit. We withdrew to the backyard of the schoolroom, and there, in a corner where we thought we could not be overheard, we began to plot against the liberty of Dame Clackett.
Hardy was one of the rarest boys for making fireworks I ever knew in my life. He had bought a book called "Every Boy his own Squib-Maker," in which were directions for making squibs, crackers, rockets, Roman candles, serpents, slow fire, blue lights, and other descriptions of fireworks. This he nearly knew by heart. Sapskull said:
"Look in your book and see if there is not in it how to make a guy."
So Hardy looked all over the book, but to no purpose; there was no description of a guy manufactory. It was of no consequence; we had a guy in our head, and we only now wished to know how we should get hold of the old lady, and what we should do on this joyful occasion.
Hardy said he had several pounds of gunpowder, and would sell us all squibs and crackers. But these we did not so much want. What we wanted was an old chair, an old jacket, hat, and other matters to dress up the old lady when we could catch her. But how to get her into the chair was the difficulty, and some proposed one thing and some another. Sapskull said, "We must make her merry with some beer." Hardy said, "We must tie her down." But I proposed to ask her to sit for her picture as a guy, and then to carry her off. Master Quidd was, however, more cunning than any of us, and said, "I know how to nab her; I have a plan, and a capital one it is, too."
"What is it? what is it?" said all of us.
The fact was old Dame Clackett was a very staunch churchwoman, and used always to go both on Wednesdays and Fridays, Rain or sunshine, hot or cold, nothing could keep her away from her church, and we silly boys laughed at her for it. Poor old creature! she felt more real pleasure in this than we could imagine.
"I will tell you what we will do," said Quidd. "There is in our outhouse an old wheeled chair which my mother used to ride about in when she was so long ill, a year or two ago. Now, I know old Dame Clackett is very lame just now, from having let fall her fender on her foot. I will take this chair down, and offer to draw her to church in it, and then, when we have once got her in the chair, we can do as we like with her. Hurrah!"