Of my Incarceration in the Jug
of snuff. But after that I was pushed along, and came next into the open, where a great crowd was collected. At the sight of me there was some noise, and then what does I do but suddenly flops upon my knees again.
“Your reverence, I would wish to pray,” says I.
“Back there,” cried the Ordinary, waving his arm authoritatively, and gesticulating to my shepherds to stop. There was a roar from the crowd, and then there fell a hush, for ’twas scarce the conduct that had been looked for in me. Then I was gotten into the cart, with the Ordinary by me, and we set forth at a doleful pace for the Uxbridge Road. Down I pops on my knees once more.
“I would ask mercy,” says I.
His reverence stared a little, but quickly composing himself, “Aye, you have need of mercy,” he says, and lifts his own hands to Heaven.
Now this proved diverting to the escort, of whom the self-same Sheriff that had witnessed against me rode near by on a white horse. But I let ’em laugh, for I swore under my breath to
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