We were deep in grave and, I trust,
profitable converse speeding through the endless streets, when of a
sudden I felt a sharp tug at my head, and my hat fluttered down on to my
knees. I raised my hands, and lo! they came upon my bare pate. The
wig had vanished. We were rolling down Fleet Street at the moment, and
there was no one in the calash save neighbour Foster, who sat as
astounded as I. We looked high and low, on the seats and beneath them,
but not a sign of the periwig was there. It was gone utterly and
without a trace.'
'Whither then?' we asked with one voice.
'That was the question which we set ourselves to solve. For a moment I
do assure ye that we bethought us that it might be a judgment upon us
for our attention to such carnal follies. Then it crossed my mind that
it might be the doing of some malicious sprite, as the Drummer of
Tedworth, or those who occasioned the disturbances no very long time
since at the old Gast House at Little Burton here in Somersetshire.
[Note F. Appendix.] With this thought we hallooed to the coachman,
and told him what had occurred to us. The fellow came down from his
perch, and having heard our story, he burst straightway into much foul
language, and walking round to the back of his calash, showed us that a
slit had been made in the leather wherewith it was fashioned.
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