Briggs very generously to the concert. It may be as well to
say that every one of the twelve guineas had come out of Mrs.
Polly's own pocket; who, in return, had received them from Mr.
Billings. And as the reader may remember that, on the day of
Tommy's first interview with his father, he had previously paid a
visit to Mrs. Briggs, having under his arm a pair of breeches, which
Mrs. Briggs coveted--he should now be informed that she desired
these breeches, not for pincushions, but for Mr. Moffat, who had
long been in want of a pair.
Having thus episodically narrated Mr. Moffat's history, let us state
that he, his lady, and their friends, passed before the Count's
arbour, joining in a melodious chorus to a song which one of the
society, an actor of Betterton's, was singing:
"'Tis my will, when I'm dead, that no tear shall be shed,
No 'Hic jacet' be graved on my stone;
But pour o'er my ashes a bottle of red,
And say a good fellow is gone,
My brave boys!
And say a good fellow is gone."
"My brave boys" was given with vast emphasis by the party; Mr.
Moffat growling it in a rich bass, and Mrs. Briggs in a soaring
treble. As to the notes, when quavering up to the skies, they
excited various emotions among the people in the gardens.
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