ToC On the night of Friday, the 26th of November, 1703, and at the hour of eleven, the door of a miserable habitation, situated in an obscure quarter of the Borough of Southwark, known as the Old Mint, was opened; and a man, with a lantern in his hand, appeared at the threshold. " "Say the word, and I'm mum," returned the executioner. The novel danger of the situation enthralled him. ” “Rather! But I wonder why you don’t mean it?” “Because, I suppose, the other thing is better. “Splendid it must be to be a composer. He's neighbourly; he has a jingle for every ache and joy I've had.
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