he aint got Archy to
send em--don't you be a fool. And another thing, Paganani's going to
play the farmyard on the fiddle to-night. Gemminey, ain't that good!
You hear the pigs squeak, and the bull roar, and the old cock crow, and
the sow grunt, and the horse kick--"

"How the devil can thee hear a horse kick, unless he kicks zummat?"

"Well, he does," said Horatio; "that's just what he does do. Let's go, I
am sure you will like it."

"It beant one o' these ere playhouse pleaces, be it?"

"Lor bless you," said Horatio, "there's pews just the same as if you was
in Church: and the singing's beautiful."

"No sarmon, I s'pooase."

"Not on week nights, but I'll tell you what there is instead: a chap
climbs up to the top of a high pole and stands on his head for ten
minutes."

Mr. Bumpkin, although a man who never went out of an evening, could not
resist the persuasions of his pale young friend. He had never been to
any place of amusement, except the Old Bailey, since he had been in
London; although he had promised himself a treat to the Cattle Show,
provided that came on, which was very likely, as it only wanted five
months to it, before his case.

So they got on the top of a 'Bus and proceeded on their way to Lambeth
Palace; for the Canterbury Hall, as everyone knows, is in that ancient
pile. And truly, when they arrived everything was astonishingly
beautiful and pleasing. Mr. Bumpkin was taken through the Picture
Gallery, which he enjoyed, although he would have liked to see one or two
like the Squire had got in his Hall, such as "Clinker," the prize bull;
and "Father Tommy," the celebrated ram. But the Archbishop probably had
never taken a prize: not much of a breeder maybe.

Now they entered the Hall amid strains of sweet, soft, enchanting music.
Never before had the soul of Bumpkin been so enthralled: it was as if the
region of fairyland had suddenly burst upon his astonished view. In
presence of all this beauty, and this delicious cadence of sweet sounds,
what a common-place thing _Bumpkin_ v. _Snooks_ seemed!

Theirs was a very nice pew, commanding a full view of the stage and all
the angelic looking beings. And evidently our friends were considered
fashionable people, for many of the audience looked round at them as they
entered. So awed was Mr. Bumpkin when he first sat down, that he
wondered whether he ought to look into his hat as the Squire did in
Church; but, resolving to be guided by Horat