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A Musical Blow-up
Jests Home
THE Rev. Mr. B----, when residing at Canterbury some years ago, was
reckoned a good violoncello-player. His sight being dim obliged him very
often to snuff the candles, and in lieu of snuffers he generally
employed his fingers in that office, thrusting the spoils into the
sound-holes of his violoncello. A waggish friend of his popped a
quantity of gunpowder into B----'s instrument. The tea equipage being
removed, music became the order of the evening, and B---- dashed away at
Vanhall's 47th. B---- came to a bar's rest, the candles were snuffed,
and he thrust the ignited wick into the usual place--fit fragor, and
bang went the fiddle to pieces.
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