Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. As soon as the cavalcade stopped, the sexton advanced, and, ringing a handbell, pronounced the following admonition. The cause of this uproar was soon manifest. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. ” “John, maybe I don’t want to try out for orchestra right now because my heart isn’t in it. ” He said, his voice tinged with worry. It will be his interest to do so. ‘Yes, only that this consolation he had found before he married my mother.
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