At last, either prompted by some mischief-maker, or from some tipsy impulse, he clambered up the pulpit stairs, and attempted to embrace Mr.Redhead.

Then the profane fun grew fast and furious.

Some of the more riotous, pushed the soot-covered chimney-sweeper against Mr.Redhead, as he tried to escape.

They threw both him and his tormentor down on the ground in the churchyard where the soot-bag had been emptied, and, though, at last, Mr.Redhead escaped into the Black Bull, the doors of which were immediately barred, the people raged without, threatening to stone him and his friends.

One of my informants is an old man, who was the landlord of the inn at the time, and he stands to it that such was the temper of the irritated mob, that Mr.Redhead was in real danger of his life.