’Itwasalongwhilebeforethestoryofwhattheyhadgonethroughwasknown，butitwastalkedofintime，andtheythemselveslaughoveritnow；thoughwhatJanegotforherpainswasnogreatbargainafterall。’Tistrueshesavedhername。’
’WasthatthesameAndreywhowenttothesquire’shouseasoneoftheChristmasfiddlers？’askedtheseedsman。
’No，no，’repliedMr。Profitt，theschoolmaster。’Itwashisfatherdidthat。Ay，itwasallowingtohisbeingsuchamanforeatinganddrinking。’Findingthathehadtheearoftheaudience，theschoolmastercontinuedwithoutdelay：-
OLDANDREY’SEXPERIENCEASAMUSICIAN
’Iwasoneofthechoir-boysatthattime，andweandtheplayersweretoappearatthemanor-houseasusualthatChristmasweek，toplayandsinginthehalltothesquire’speopleandvisitorsamong’embeingthearchdeacon，LordandLadyBaxby，andIdon’tknowwho；
afterwardsgoing，aswealwaysdid，tohaveagoodsupperintheservants’hall。Andrewknewthiswasthecustom，andmeetinguswhenwewerestartingtogo，hesaidtous：“Lord，howIshouldliketojoininthatmealofbeef，andturkey，andplum-pudding，andale，thatyouhappyonesbegoingtojustnow!Onemoreorlesswillmakenodifferencetothesquire。Iamtoooldtopassasasingingboy，andtoobeardedtopassasasinginggirl；canyelendmeafiddle，neighbours，thatImaycomewithyeasabandsman？“
’Well，wedidn’tliketobeharduponhim，andlenthimanoldone，thoughAndrewknewnomoreofmusicthantheCerneGiant；andarmedwiththeinstrumenthewalkeduptothesquire’shousewiththeothersofusatthetimeappointed，andwentinboldly，hisfiddleunderhisarm。Hemadehimselfasnaturalashecouldinopeningthemusic-booksandmovingthecandlestothebestpointsforthrowinglightuponthenotes；andallwentwelltillwehadplayedandsung“Whileshepherdswatch，“and“Star，arise，“and“Harkthegladsound。“Thenthesquire’smother，atallgruffoldlady，whowasmuchinterestedinchurch-music，saidquiteunexpectedlytoAndrew：
“Myman，Iseeyoudon’tplayyourinstrumentwiththerest。Howisthat？“
’EveryoneofthechoirwasreadytosinkintotheearthwithconcernatthefixAndrewwasin。Wecouldseethathehadfallenintoacoldsweat，andhowhewouldgetoutofitwedidnotknow。
’“I’vehadamisfortune，mem，“hesays，bowingasmeekasachild。
“ComingalongtheroadIfelldownandbrokemybow。“
’“Oh，Iamsorrytohearthat，“saysshe。“Can’titbemended？“
’“Ohno，mem，“saysAndrew。“’Twasbrokealltosplinters。“
’“I’llseewhatIcandoforyou，“saysshe。
’Andthenitseemedallover，andweplayed“Rejoice，yedrowsymortalsall，“inDandtwosharps。ButnosoonerhadwegotthroughitthanshesaystoAndrew，’“I’vesentupintotheattic，wherewehavesomeoldmusicalinstruments，andfoundabowforyou。“AndshehandsthebowtopoorwretchedAndrew，whodidn’tevenknowwhichendtotakeholdof。
“Nowweshallhavethefullaccompaniment，“saysshe。
’Andrew’sfacelookedasifitweremadeofrottenappleashestoodinthecircleofplayersinfrontofhisbook；foriftherewasonepersonintheparishthateverybodywasafraidof，’twasthishook-
nosedoldlady。However，bykeepingalittlebehindthenextmanhemanagedtomakepretenceofbeginning，sawingawaywithhisbowwithoutlettingittouchthestrings，sothatitlookedasifheweredrivingintothetunewithheartandsoul。’Tisaquestionifhewouldn’thavegotthroughallrightifoneofthesquire’svisitorsnootherthanthearchdeaconhadn’tnoticedthatheheldthefiddleupsidedown，thenutunderhischin，andthetail-pieceinhishand；
andtheybegantocrowdroundhim，thinking’twassomenewwayofperforming。
’Thisrevealedeverything；thesquire’smotherhadAndrewturnedoutofthehouseasavileimpostor，andtherewasgreatinterruptiontotheharmonyoftheproceedings，thesquiredeclaringheshouldhavenoticetoleavehiscottagethatdayfortnight。However，whenwegottotheservants’halltheresatAndrew，whohadbeenletinatthebackdoorbytheordersofthesquire’swife，afterbeingturnedoutatthefrontbytheordersofthesquire，andnothingmorewasheardabouthisleavinghiscottage。ButAndrewneverperformedinpublicasamusicianafterthatnight；andnowhe’sdeadandgone，poorman，asweallshallbe!’
’Ihadquiteforgottentheoldchoir，withtheirfiddlesandbass-
viols，’saidthehome-comer，musingly。’Aretheystillgoingonthesameasofold？’
’Blesstheman!’saidChristopherTwink，themaster-thatcher；’why，they’vebeendoneawaywiththesetwentyyear。Ayoungteetotalerplaystheorganinchurchnow，andplaysitverywell；though’tisnotquitesuchgoodmusicasinoldtimes，becausetheorganisoneofthemthatgowithawinch，andtheyoungteetotalersayshecan’talwaysthrowtheproperfeelingintothetunewithoutwellnighworkinghisarmsoff。’
’Whydidtheymakethechange，then？’
’Well，partlybecauseoffashion，partlybecausetheoldmusiciansgotintoasortofscrape。Aterriblescrape’twastoo——wasn’tit，John？Ishallneverforgetit——never!Theylosttheircharacterasofficersofthechurchascompleteasifthey’dneverhadanycharacteratall。’
’Thatwasverybadforthem。’
’Yes。’Themaster-thatcherattentivelyregardedpasttimesasiftheylayaboutamileoff，andwenton：-
ABSENT-MINDEDNESSINAPARISHCHOIR
’IthappenedonSundayafterChristmas——thelastSundayevertheyplayedinLongpuddlechurchgallery，asitturnedout，thoughtheydidn’tknowitthen。Asyoumayknow，sir，theplayersformedaverygoodband——almostasgoodastheMellstockparishplayersthatwereledbytheDewys；andthat’ssayingagreatdeal。TherewasNicholasPuddingcome，theleader，withthefirstfiddle；therewasTimothyThomas，thebass-violman；JohnBiles，thetenorfiddler；Dan’lHornhead，withtheserpent；RobertDowdle，withtheclarionet；andMr。Nicks，withtheoboe——allsoundandpowerfulmusicians，andstrong-windedmen——theythatblowed。ForthatreasontheywereverymuchindemandChristmasweekforlittlereelsanddancingparties；
fortheycouldturnajigorahornpipeoutofhandaswellasevertheycouldturnoutapsalm，andperhapsbetter，nottospeakirreverent。Inshort，onehalf-hourtheycouldbeplayingaChristmascarolinthesquire’shalltotheladiesandgentlemen，anddrinkingtayandcoffeewith’emasmodestassaints；andthenext，atTheTinker’sArms，blazingawaylikewildhorseswiththe“DashingWhiteSergeant“toninecoupleofdancersandmore，andswallowingrum-and-ciderhotasflame。
’Well，thisChristmasthey’dbeenouttoonerattlingrandyafteranothereverynight，andhadgotnexttonosleepatall。ThencametheSundayafterChristmas，theirfatalday。’Twassomortalcoldthatyearthattheycouldhardlysitinthegallery；forthoughthecongregationdowninthebodyofthechurchhadastovetokeepoffthefrost，theplayersinthegalleryhadnothingatall。SoNicholassaidatmorningservice，when’twasfreezinganinchanhour，“PleasetheLordIwon’tstandthisnumbingweathernolonger：
thisafternoonwe’llhavesomethinginourinsidestomakeuswarm，ifitcostaking’sransom。“
’Sohebroughtagallonofhotbrandyandbeer，readymixed，tochurchwithhimintheafternoon，andbykeepingthejarwellwrappedupinTimothyThomas’sbass-violbagitkeptdrinkablywarmtilltheywantedit，whichwasjustathimblefulintheAbsolution，andanotheraftertheCreed，andtheremainderatthebeginningo’thesermon。
Whenthey’dhadthelastpulltheyfeltquitecomfortableandwarm，andasthesermonwenton——mostunfortunatelyfor’emitwasalongonethatafternoon——theyfellasleep，everymanjackof’em；andtheretheysleptonassoundasrocks。
“Twasaverydarkafternoon，andbytheendofthesermonallyoucouldseeoftheinsideofthechurchwerethepa’son’stwocandlesalongsideofhiminthepulpit，andhisspakingfacebehind’em。Thesermonbeingendedatlast，thepa’songie’douttheEveningHymn。
Butnochoirsetaboutsoundingupthetune，andthepeoplebegantoturntheirheadstolearnthereasonwhy，andthenLeviLimpet，aboywhosatinthegallery，nudgedTimothyandNicholas，andsaid，“Begin!begin!“
’“Hey？what？“saysNicholas，startingup；andthechurchbeingsodarkandhisheadsomuddledhethoughthewasatthepartytheyhadplayedatallthenightbefore，andawayhewent，bowandfiddle，at“TheDevilamongtheTailors，“thefavouritejigofourneighbourhoodatthattime。Therestoftheband，beinginthesamestateofmindandnothingdoubting，followedtheirleaderwithalltheirstrength，accordingtocustom。Theypouredoutthattheretunetillthelowerbassnotesof“TheDevilamongtheTailors“madethecobwebsintheroofshiverlikeghosts；thenNicholas，seeingnobodymoved，shoutedoutashescrapedinhisusualcommandingwayatdanceswhenthefolkdidn’tknowthefigures，“Topcouplescrosshands!AndwhenI
makethefiddlesqueakattheend，everymankisshispardnerunderthemistletoe!“
’TheboyLeviwassofrightenedthathebolteddownthegallerystairsandouthomewardlikelightning。Thepa’son’shairfairlystoodonendwhenheheardtheeviltuneragingthroughthechurch，andthinkingthechoirhadgonecrazyhehelduphishandandsaid：
“Stop，stop，stop!Stop，stop!What’sthis？“Buttheydidn’thear’nforthenoiseoftheirownplaying，andthemorehecalledtheloudertheyplayed。
’Thenthefolkscameoutoftheirpews，wonderingdowntotheground，andsaying：“Whatdotheymeanbysuchwickedness!WeshallbeconsumedlikeSodomandGomorrah!“
’Thenthesquirecameoutofhispewlinedwi’greenbaize，wherelotsoflordsandladiesvisitingatthehousewereworshippingalongwithhim，andwentandstoodinfrontofthegallery，andshookhisfistinthemusicians’faces，saying，“What!Inthisreverentedifice!What!“
’Andatlasttheyheard’nthroughtheirplaying，andstopped。
’“Neversuchaninsulting，disgracefulthing——never!“saysthesquire，whocouldn’trulehispassion。
’“Never!“saysthepa’son，whohadcomedownandstoodbesidehim。
’“NotiftheAngelsofHeaven，“saysthesquirehewasawickedishman，thesquirewas，thoughnowforoncehehappenedtobeontheLord’sside——“notiftheAngelsofHeavencomedown，“hesays，“shalloneofyouvillanousplayerseversoundanoteinthischurchagain；fortheinsulttome，andmyfamily，andmyvisitors，andGodAlmighty，thatyou’vea-perpetratedthisafternoon!“
’Thentheunfortunatechurchbandcametotheirsenses，andrememberedwheretheywere；and’twasasighttoseeNicholasPuddingcomeandTimothyThomasandJohnBilescreepdownthegallerystairswiththeirfiddlesundertheirarms，andpoorDan’lHornheadwithhisserpent，andRobertDowdlewithhisclarionet，alllookingaslittleasninepins；andouttheywent。Thepa’sonmighthaveforgi’ed’emwhenhelearnedthetrutho’t，butthesquirewouldnot。Thatveryweekhesentforabarrel-organthatwouldplaytwo-and-twentynewpsalm-tunes，soexactandparticularthat，howeversinfulinclinedyouwas，youcouldplaynothingbutpsalm-tuneswhatsomever。Hehadareallyrespectablemantoturnthewinch，asIsaid，andtheoldplayersplayednomore。’
’And，ofcourse，myoldacquaintance，theannuitant，Mrs。Winter，whoalwaysseemedtohavesomethingonhermind，isdeadandgone？’saidthehome-comer，afteralongsilence。
Nobodyinthevanseemedtorecollectthename。
’Oyes，shemustbedeadlongsince：shewasseventywhenIasachildknewher，’headded。