"I know the Psa'am-I know the Psa'am!" said the leader hastily "but I would as lief not sing it. "Now then," he said, "Psalm the Hundred-and-Ninth, to the tune of Wiltshire: verses ten to fifteen. Henchard's mouth changed a little, and he continued to turn over the leaves. Councillor Farfrae with Lucetta upon his arm, the observed and imitated of all the smaller tradesmen's womankind. Among the rest of the leading inhabitants walked Mr. I'll find some words to fit en." He took one of the psalters and began turning over the leaves.Ĭhancing to look out of the window at that moment he saw a flock of people passing by, and perceived them to be the congregation of the upper church, now just dismissed, their sermon having been a longer one than that the lower parish was favoured with.
"Chuck across one of your psalters-old Wiltshire is the only tune worth singing-the psalm-tune that would make my blood ebb and flow like the sea when I was a steady chap. "Hang Samuel Wakely's tune, as improved by thee!" said Henchard. "As 'tis Sunday, neighbours, suppose we raise the Fourth Psa'am, to Samuel Wakely's tune, as improved by me?" "Well-heh, heh-it may be we can do that, and not a man among us that have sat in the gallery less than twenty year," said the leader of the band. "Hymns, ballets, or rantipole rubbish the Rogue's March or the cherubim's warble-'tis all the same to me if 'tis good harmony, and well put out." "I don't care a curse what the words be," said Henchard.
Sound A, neighbours, and give the man a stave." "We've let back our strings, that's true, but we can soon pull 'em up again. "With all my heart," said the first fiddle. I want you fellows of the choir to strike up a tune and what with that and this brew of Stannidge's, I am in hopes of getting altogether out of my minor key." I've been down in spirit for weeks some of ye know the cause. Henchard did not take the trouble to reply for a few moments, and his eyes rested on his stretched-out legs and boots.
He was seated on a small table, drawn up to the side of the massive oak board reserved for the churchmen, a few of whom nodded to him as they took their places and said, "How be ye, Mr.
The flush upon his face proclaimed at once that the vow of twenty-one years had lapsed, and the era of So timed his entry as to be well established in the large room by the time the forty church-goers entered to their customary cups. Now the Three Mariners was the inn chosen by Henchard as the place for closing his long term of dramless years. From THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE by Thomas Hardy
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