The whole house, indeed, seemed abandoned to merriment. As I passed
to my room to dress for dinner, I heard the sound of music in a small
court, and, looking through a window that commanded it, I perceived
a band of wandering musicians, with pandean pipes and tambourine; a
pretty, coquettish housemaid was dancing a jig with a smart country lad,
while several of the other servants were looking on. In the midst of her
sport the girl caught a glimpse of my face at the window, and, colouring
up, ran off with an air of roguish affected confusion.
The Christmas Dinner
Lo, now is come the joyful'st feast!
Let every man be jolly,
Eache roome with yvie leaves is drest,
And every post with holly.
Now all our neighbours' chimneys smoke,
And Christmas blocks are burning;
Their ovens they with bak't meats choke,
And all their spits are turning.
Without the door let sorrow lie,
And if, for cold, it hap to die,
We'll bury't in a Christmas pye,
And evermore be merry.
--WITHERS'S Juvenilia.
I had finished my toilet, and was loitering with Frank Bracebridge in
the library, when we heard a distant thwacking sound, which he informed
me was a signal for the serving up of the dinner. The Squire kept up old
customs in kitchen as well as hall; and the rolling-pin, struck upon the
dresser by the cook, summoned the servants to carry in the meats.
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