'
'I will not permit that--I will not suffer Miss Hazeltine to go,' cried
Mr Bloomfield.
'Why?' asked Julia.
Mr Bloomfield had not the least desire to tell her why, for it was
simply a craven fear of being drawn himself into the imbroglio; but with
the usual tactics of a man who is ashamed of himself, he took the high
hand. 'God forbid, my dear Miss Hazeltine, that I should dictate to a
lady on the question of propriety--' he began.
'O, is that all?' interrupted Julia. 'Then we must go all three.'
'Caught!' thought the Squirradical.
CHAPTER XII. Positively the Last Appearance of the Broadwood Grand
England is supposed to be unmusical; but without dwelling on the
patronage extended to the organ-grinder, without seeking to found any
argument on the prevalence of the jew's trump, there is surely one
instrument that may be said to be national in the fullest acceptance
of the word. The herdboy in the broom, already musical in the days of
Father Chaucer, startles (and perhaps pains) the lark with this exiguous
pipe; and in the hands of the skilled bricklayer,
'The thing becomes a trumpet, whence he blows'
(as a general rule) either 'The British Grenadiers' or 'Cherry Ripe'.
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