And they—about nine of them—began dancing too, and a regular strange kind of a hobble it was, as ever was seen: but at last the squire and the vicar and Doctor Pillikin went down with the sergeant and a constable and pretended that a new Act had been passed making it illegal to dance after nine o'clock, and cleared the hall, with Joe dinging away at 'em the whole time, and made the old folks go home.
"GETTING BETTER AGAIN."
Next day Joe Wilkings was going to do all manner of things—going up to London to consult a solicitor in Lincoln's Inn, and appeal to the High Courts, and give the squire and the rest of 'em penal servitude at Botany Bay, and all manner; but he'd caught such a cold at that ball that he had to take to his bed again, in spite of all his determination; and when he got up again after three weeks he had lost the use of his one leg, and was so weak he hadn't the heart to do anything. He was in a bad way for a long time, but they say he's getting better again now; and I've heard tell that the squire and that lot are beginning to get nervous again, as there's no knowing when he'll break out.
He's a tough one, is old Joe Wilkings, and, if you'll believe me, he'll make it hot for 'em yet!
J. F. Sullivan.
