She then made a blow with her broomstick, and struck Master Hardy on the nose, from which the blood flowed freely. This, however, only made him the more determined, and in a few minutes the poor old woman's arms were secured as well as her legs.
"Oh, help, neighbors! They are going to burn me!" said the old lady, and then she fell coughing, for she had long suffered from asthma.
While convulsed with this fit, the boys took the opportunity to besmear her face with red and black paint, and to place the helmet on her head, and the coat round her, so that the arms hung on each side with nothing on them. The chair was then crammed with straw, and the lantern and the matches suspended from it. In this state the chair was wheeled rapidly along in the direction of the town.
Other boys soon joined, and surrounded the vehicle, shouting and laughing. The old lady, made several ineffectual attempts to get out of the chair. She called out, "A plot! a plot! a Popery plot! No Popery! Oh! I shall be killed!" and many such exclamations. The populace took this as a part of the character, and laughed most heartily. The greatest number of persons thought the guy to be a boy dressed up, and cried out that he acted his part well. No one suspected it was old Dame Clackett.
Away they went in the midst of the hubbub, up one street and down another, over the market-place and by the church. Just as the clock struck twelve the boys of the Free School came from the latter place, and joined the procession. It was now a national affair, and, as it proceeded from the church doors, it was thought to be the church Guy Fawkes—and so it was.
"Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted a hundred voices; and while Hardy and his companions held on the chair, Quidd and I went about with our hats to collect as much money as we could.
The old lady was vociferous, and struggled to get out. She flung her arms about, and cried out, "Deliver me from the flames! Save me from being burnt!" and everybody thought that the part of guy was acted to perfection.
Quidd and I got a great deal of money—silver, and copper, and even gold. Seven-shilling pieces were in circulation at that time, and the squire and Mr. Hassock passing us, one threw sixpence and the other a seven-shilling piece to us, for which we gave a louder cheer than usual. In short, our hats were very nearly half full of money.
The old woman began to be more pacified as she saw the money coming in, particularly as we put it all into her lap, and told her it should be hers. But the sight of the squire and the curate, and the seven-shilling piece, which latter we put into her mouth, seemed quite to reconcile her to her fate. She became then as gentle as a lamb. She said:
"Do as you like—do as you like, only don't burn me for a guy; and give me a drop of something to drink."