The fellow 'prentices at their looms [graphic]

In the weaver's workshop, Tom Idle sleeps, spindle in hand, at his loom beneath a ballad of Moll Flanders, having drunk from a large tankard lettered "Spittle Fields"; Francis Goodchild concentrates on his work while light streams through the window onto ballads of "The London Prentice" and "Whitington, Ld Mayor" on the wall above his head; a cat pulls at Idle's shuttle and the master, Mr. West, enters shaking his cane at his idle apprentice