The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. ’ Melusine sighed in a satisfied way. ’ Melusine hardly dared believe she had heard him aright. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. Was it VERY horrible? I tried to get into the police-court, but the crowd was ever so much too big, push as I would.
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