in his long stocking, if he had a little harness about his neck. George, I will have him dance fading.—Fading is a fine jig, I’ll assure you, gentlemen.—Begin, brother. [Boy dances .] Now ’a capers, sweetheart!—Now a turn o’ the toe, and then tumble! cannot you tumble, youth?

Boy . No, indeed, forsooth.

Wife . Nor eat fire?

Boy . Neither.

Wife . Why, then, I thank you heartily; there’s twopence to buy you points withal.]