 39. A troubled state and a foolish joke. 40. Stickles took me aside the next day and opened all his business to me, whether I would or not, but I gave him clearly to understand that he was not to be vexed with me, neither to regard me as in any way dishonest if I should use for my own purpose or for the benefit of my friends. Any part of the knowledge and privy thus enforced upon me. To this he agreed quite readily, but upon the express provision that I should do nothing to thaw his schemes, neither unfold them to anyone, but otherwise be allowed to act according to my own conscience, and as consistent with the honor of a loyal gentleman. 41. For so he was pleased to term me. 42. Now what he said lay in no great compass and may be summed in smaller still, especially as people know the chief part of it already. 43. Disaffection to the king, or rather dislike to his brother James, and fear of Roman a sentencing had existed now for several years, and of late was spreading rapidly. 44. Partly through the downright arrogance of the Troy fraction, the cruelty and austerity of the Duke of York, the corruption of justice, and confiscation of ancient rites and charters. 44. Partly through jealousy of the French king and his potent voice in our affairs, and partly, or perhaps one might even say mainly, through that natural tide in all political channels, which verily moves as if it had the moon itself for its mistress. 45. No sooner is a thing done and fixed, being set far in advance perhaps of all that was done before, like a new mole in the sea, but immediately the waters retire, least they should undo it, and everyone says how fine it is, but leaves other people to walk on it. 46. Then after a while, the vague endless ocean, having retired and lain still without a breeze or murmur, frets and heaves again with the impulse, or with lashes laid on it, and in one great surge advances over every rampart. And so there was, at the time I speak of, a great surge in England, not rolling yet, but seething, and one which a thousand chief justices in a million Jeremy Stickles should never be able to stop or turn by stringing up men in front of it, any more than a rope of onions can repulse a volcano. But the worst of it was that this great movement took a wrong channel at first, not only missing legitimate line, but warring out that the back ditchway was the true and established course of it. Against this rash and random current, nearly all the ancient mariners of the state were set, not to allow the brave ship to drift there, though some little boats might try it. For the present there seemed to be a pulse with no open onset, but people on the shore expecting, each according to his wishes, and the feel of his own finger, whence the rush of wind should come which might direct the waters. Now, to reduce high figures of speech into our own little numerals, all the towns of Somerset Shire and the half towns of Devonshire were full of pushing, eager people ready to swallow anything or to make others swallow it. Whether they believe the folly about the black box and all that stuff is not for me to say, only one thing I know, they pretended to do so and persuaded the ignorant restants, Taunton, Bridgewater, Minehead, and Doverton, took the lead of the other towns in utterance of their discontent and threats of what they meant to do, if ever at Papas, declared to climb the Protestant throne of England. On the other hand, the Troy leaders were not as yet under apprehension of an immediate outbreak and feared to damage their own cause by premature coercion, for the struggle was not very likely to begin in earnest during the life of the present king, unless he should, as some people hoped, be so far emboldened as to make public profession of the faith which he held, if any. So the Troy policy was to watch, not indeed permitting their opponents to gather strength and muster in armed force over of other order, but being well apprised of all their schemes and attendant movements, to wait for some bold overact and then to strike severely, and as a Troy watchman or spy as the wigs would call him, Jeremy Stickles was now among us and his duty was threefold. First and most ostinately, to see to the levion of poundage in the little haven of linemouth and farther up the coast, which was now becoming a place of resort for the folk whom we call smugglers, that is to say, who land their goods without regard to king's revenue as by law established, and indeed there had been no officer appointed to take toll until one had been sent to minehead, not so very long before. The exercise as well, which had been ordered in the time of the long parliament, had been little heated by the people hereabouts. Secondly, his duty was, though only the dunes had discovered it, to watch those outlaws narrowly and report their manners, which were scanty. Dunes, which were too manifold, reputation, which was extractable, and politics, whether true to the king and the pope or otherwise. Jeremy Stickles' third business was entirely political, to learn the temper of our people and the gentle families, to watch the movements of the trained bands, which could not always be trusted, to discover any collecting of arms and drilling of men among us, to prevent, if need were by open force, any importation of gunpowder or which there had been some rumor, in a word, to observe and forestall the enemy. Now in providing for this last mentioned service, the government had made a great mistake, doubtless through their anxiety to escape any public attention. For all the disposable force at their emissary's command amounted to no more than a score of musketeers, and these so divided among the coast as scarcely to suffice for the duty of sentels. He held a commission, it is true, for the employment of the trained bands, but upon the understanding that he was not to call upon them, except as a last resort for any political object, although he might use them against the dunes as private criminals, if found needful, and supposing that he could get them. So you see, John, he said in conclusion, I have more work than tools to do with it. I am heartily sorry I ever accepted such a mixed and meager commission. At the bottom of it lies, I am well convinced, not only the desire to keep things quiet, but the paltry jealousy of the military people. Because I am not a colonel, foresuit, or a captain in his Majesty's service, it would never do to trust me with a company of soldiers, and yet they would not send either colonel or captain for fear of a stir in the rustic mind. The only thing that I can do with any chance of success is to route out these vile dune fellows and burn their houses over their heads. Now what think you of that, John read? Destroy the town of the dunes, I said, and all the dunes inside it? Surely, Jeremy, you would never think of such a cruel act as that. A cruel act, John? It would be a mercy for at least three counties. No doubt you folk who live so near are well accustomed to them and would miss your liveliness in coming home after nightfall, and the joy of finding your sheep and cattle right when you not expected it. But after a while you might get used to the doneness of being safe in your beds and not losing your sisters and sweethearts. Surely, on the whole, it is as pleasant not to be robbed as to be robbed. I think we should miss them very much, I answered after consideration, for the possibility of having no dunes had never yet occurred to me, and we all were so thoroughly used to them and allowed for it in one year's reckoning. I am sure we would miss them very sadly, and something worse would come of it. Thou art the staunchiest of all staunch tories, cried Stickles, laughing as he shook my hand. Thou believest in the divine right of robbers, who are good enough to steal thy own fat sheep. I am a jolly toy, John, but thou art ten times jollier, O the grief in thy face at the thought of being robbed no longer. He laughed in a very unseemly manner, while I described nothing to laugh about, for we always like to see our way, and a sudden change upsets us. And unless it were in the loss of the farm, or the death of the king, or a beddy muck's worthy, there was nothing that could so unsettle our minds as the loss of the dunes are bag-worthy. And beside all this, I was thinking, of course, and thinking more than all the rest about the troubles that might ensue to my own beloved Lorna. If an attack of Glendon were made by savage soldiers and rude train-bands, what might happen, or what might not, to my delicate innocent darling? Therefore, when Jeremy Stickles again placed the matter before me, commending my strength, and courage, and skill to flatter me of the highest, and finished by saying that I would be worth at least four common men to him, I cut him short as follows. Master Stickles, once for all, I will have not to do with it. The reason why is no odds of thine nor in any way disloyal. Only in thy plans remember that I will not strike a blow, neither give any counsel, neither guard any prisoners. Not strike a blow? cried Jeremy, against thy father's murderers, John? Not a single blow, Jeremy, unless I knew the man who did it, and he glorified in his sin. It was a foul and dastardly deed, yet not done in cold blood, neither in cold blood will I take God's task of avenging it. Very well, John, answered Master Stickles. I know thine ostensly, when thine mind is made up, to argue with thee, is pelting a rock with peppercorns. But thou hast some other reason, lad, unless I am much mistaken, over and above thy merciful nature and Christian forgiveness. Anyhow, come and see it, John, there will be good sport. I reckon, especially when we thrust our claws into the nest of the ravens. Many a yield man will find his daughter, and some of the pork-lock lads their sweethearts, a nice young maiden now for thee, John, if indeed any. No more of this, I answered very sternly. It is no business of thine, Jeremy, and I will have no joking upon this matter. Good, my lord, so be it. But one thing I need tell thee in earnest. We will have thy old double-dealing uncle, Huckabacka Doveton, and march him first to Assault Dune Castle, surely as mine name is Stickles. I hear that he hath often vowed to storm the valley himself, if only he could find a dozen musketeers to back him. Now we will give him chance to do it, and prove his loyalty to the king, which lies under some suspicion of late. With regard to this I had nothing to say, for it seemed to me very reasonable that Arkham Reuben should have first chance of recovering his stolen goods, about which he had made such a sad to-do and promised himself such vengeance. I made bold, however, to ask Master Stickles at what time he intended to carry out this great and hazardous attempt. He answered that he had several things requiring first to be said in order, and that he must make an inland journey, even as far as Tiverton, and perhaps Credenton and Ekster, to collect his forces and ammunition for them. For he meant to have some of the yield manory as well as of the train-bands, so that if the dunes should sally forth, as perhaps they would, on horseback, Calvary might be there to meet them and cut them off from returning. All this made me very uncomfortable, for many and many reasons, the chief and foremost being, of course, my anxiety about Lorna. If the attack succeeded, what was to become of her? Who would rescue her from the brutal soldiers, even supposing that she escaped from the hands of her own people, during the danger and the ferocity? And in smaller ways, I was much put out, for instance. Who would ensure our corn wrecks, sheep and cattle, and even our fat pigs, now coming on for bacon, against the spreading all over the country of unlicensed marauders? The dunes had their rights and understood them, and took them according to prescription, even as the parson had, and the lords of manners, and the king himself, God save him. But how were these low-soldering fellows, half-starved at home very likely, and only too glad of the fat of the land, and ready, according to our proverb, to burn the paper they fried in? Who were they to come heckering and herring over us, and hillow-god-bastling with our pretty sisters to cook for them, and be chuckled under a chin perhaps afterwards? There is nothing England hates so much, according to my senses of it, as that fellows taken from prog-tail, cart-tail, pot-houses, and parish-stocks should be hoisted and hoisted upon us, after a few months drilling in their line-shaped inter-truckling, as defenders of the public will, and heroes of the universe. In another way I was vexed, moreover, for after all we must consider the opinions of our neighbors, namely that I knew quite well how everybody for ten miles around, for my fame must have been at least that wide after all my wrestling, would lift up hands and cry out this black shame on John Redd if he lets them go about him. Putting all these things together, as well as many others, which our own wits will suggest to you, it is impossible, but you will freely acknowledge that this unfortunate John Redd was now in a coven stick. There was Lorna, my love and life, bound by her duty to that old vill-nay, I mean to her good-grandfather, who could now do little mischief and therefore deserved all praise. Lorna bound, at any rate, by her womanly feelings, if not by sense of duty, to remain in the thick danger with nobody to protect her, but everybody to covet her, for beauty and position. Here was all the country roused with violent excitement, at the chance of snapping at the dunes, and not only getting tit for tat, but every young man promising his sweetheart a gold chain, and his mother at least a shilling. And here was our mullyard, better filled than we could remember, and perhaps every sheaf in it destined to be burned or stolen, before we had finished the bread we had baked. Among all these troubles, there was, however, or seemed to be, one comfort. Tom Fagus returned from London very proudly and very happily, with a royal pardon in black and white, which everybody admired the more, because no one could read a word of it, describe himself acknowledged cheerfully that he could sooner take fifty purses than read a single line of it. Some people, indeed, went so far as to say that the parchment was made from a sheep Tom had stolen, and that was why it pre-vocated so in giving him a character. But I, knowing something by this time of lawyers, was able to contradict them, affirming that the wolf had more than a sheep to do with this matter. For according to our old saying, the three learned professions lived by rougary on the three parts of a man, the doctor mulls our bodies, the parson starves our soul, but the lawyer must be the adroitous naïve for he has to ensnare our minds. Therefore, he takes a careful delight in covering his traps and engines with a spread of dead leaf words, where all himself knows little more than half the way to spell them. But now, Tom Fagus, although having wit to gallop away on his strawberry mare with the speed of terror from lawyers, having paid then with money too honest to stop, yet fell into a reckless adventure, or ever he came home from which any lawyer would have saved him, although he ought to have needed none beyond common thought for dear Annie. Now I am, and ever have been, so vexed about this story that I cannot tell it pleasantly, as I try to write in general. In my own words and manner, therefore I will let John Fry, whom I have robbed of another story, to which he was more entitled, and whom I have robbed of many speeches, which he thought very excellent. Least I should grieve any one with his lack of education, the last lack he ever felt by the Now with your good leave, I will allow poor John to tell his tale in his own words and style, which he has a perfect right to do, having been the first to tell us. For Squire Fagus kept it close, not trusting even Annie with it, or at least she said so, because no man knows much of his sweetheart's tongue until she has borne him a child or two. Only before John begins his story, this I would say, in duty to him, and in common honesty, that I dare not write down some few of his words because they are not convenient, for dialect or other causes, and that I cannot find any way of spelling many of the words which I do repeat. So that people, not born in Exmoor, may know how he pronounced them, even if they could bring their lips and their legs to the proper attitude. And in this I speak advisedly, having observed some thousand times that the manner of a man has of spreading his legs, and bending his knees, or stiffening, and even the way he will set his heel, make all the difference in his tone, and time of casting his voice aright, and power of coming home to you. We always like John's stories, not for any wit in them, but because we laughed at the man rather than the matter. The way he held his head was enough, with his chin fixed hard like a certainty, especially doing his biggest lie, not a sign of a smell in his lips or nose, but a power of not laughing, and his eyes not turning to anybody unless somebody had too much of it, as young girls always do, and went over the brink of laughter. Thereupon it was good to see John fry, how he looked gravely first at the laughter, as much as to ask, what is it now? Then if the fool went laughing more, as he or she was sure to do upon that dry inquiry, John would look again to be sure of it, and then as somebody else to learn whether the laugh had company. Then if he got another grin, all his mirrored came out in glory, with a sudden break, and he wiped his lips, and was grave again. Now John, being too much encouraged by the girls, of which I could never break them, came into the house that December evening, with every inch of him full of a tail. And he saw it, and Lizzie, of course, and even I, in the gloom of great evils, perceived that John was a loaded gun, but I did not care to explode him. Now nothing primed him so hotly as this. If you wanted to hear all John fry had heard, the surest of all sure ways to it was, to pretend not to care for a word of it. I want all the extra in the morning, John began from the chimney corner looking straight at Annie, for the zeal of the calf, Jan, as us couldn't get Z to laser out of house. Missy have got a square fancy for him, for what her have hid of the brave. Now Zit quiet, will ya Mrs. Izzy, or a woonk goon on the furter, vain little tale I'll tell ya, so be Z Zit quiet. Woo, as I come down here, I see the straight of vokes, a strapping of the Roe Udi, are on him with great goons, or two men out of three of them. Wreck and dare word three score of them, talk small and beg together like it. Loud and loud and woman and chillers, some of them were matches blowing, totedas with flint lacks. We'll be up now, I says, to be a blacksmith, as had knowledge of me. Be the king of coming, if her be, do ye want to shut them? D not now, says Bill Blacksmith, just the same as I be a tolin' of it. What a man I suspect Tom Fagas and Zoomers us means to shut them. Shut them? Without a woonk, says I, sure he knows better no thick, Bill, a man made and shut to another man, without a woonk. Bill, warsit soul Z, last team of Izena, and nothing to the contrary. Ha ha, never fight about that, said Bill, same as I be tolin' you. Us has warns and worshiping now, do ye afford them? And more, nor do's and warranties, for you I know the contrary. Shut them, us means and shut them, us wills. Wait, Miss Annie, good Lord, whatever makes thee so stare so? Nothing at all, John, I am answered, only the horrible ferocity of that miserable blacksmith. That may neither here nor there, John continue, with some wrath at his own interruption. Blacksmith Norwood, the squad had been and veered to lose his own custom, as squad took the shootin' again. Shut any man I would, my zeal, as interveiled with my trader likey. Lucky for thee, said Bill Blacksmith, at thee's best so short and fat, John, thee on us wore a goon to shut them, till a Z how fat thee was, John. Lord now, Bill, I answer, would a good cold swat upon me, shut me, Bill, and my own wife never dream of it. Here John Fry looked round the kitchen, for he had never seen anything of the kind, I doubt, but now made it part of his discourse, from thinkin' that Mistress Fry was come, as she generally did, to fetch him. What done then, Jan Fry, said a woman who had entered quietly, but was only our old Molly. What handsome man as thee has got, Jan, to speak so well of thy wifey likey. After all the layfies she leads thee, put thee part on the fire, old woman, and bow thee on begum. John answered her, very sharply. Nobody know right the matter with a man's bad omen but himself's. Well, here was all thee's here men are waitin', some with horses, some without, the common folk with long good guns, and the quality with good broad swords. Who were they? Where let me see? There was Squire Mardera. Here John assumed his full historical key, him with a part to his bitter place, and Sir Richard Bellwitt, shakin' over the Zaddy, and Squire Sanford-a-Lee, him with the long nose and one eye, and Sir Gronas Batchchildor over to Nine-Head Court, and there were so many more of them, tallin' up on how they was a-going to be promoted for kickin' kitchin' of Tom Fagus. Hope to God, says I to myself, for a time wouldn't come here today or up with her, if a-dotted, and who be there to suck a-daze? Mark me now, all thee's chops was good a-shut them, as her coon crashed the water, the water be weighed now, then stony, for no deeper demony place. D. Canson, good no-verter, Blackman said to me, nobody lower to Christ the word, until such time as Fagus Coon plays God us, may make sure of him. Amen so be it, says I, God a-north, I be never in a hurry, and where the Zooner stop no-going on most hammies. With that I pull my vitters out, and zap a horse-back a-ten of them, and on common gold they was, won't let us have this tamer just saith, Tim Potter, as keepeth the bull there, and yet I be czar for him, but a man must keep the law, her must so be her can only learn it, and now poor Tom will swing as high as the top so they get hashes there. Just D. Cretchen, un-vist, says I, measure oath with the body to measure by. Hooray, he'll be another now, said Bill Blacksmith, grinning, another coon help us, what a grave gentleman, a warship of the pace at last. For the gentleman on a cue-bar horse was coming slowly down a hill on to the other side of the water, looking at us in a friendly way, and with a long papper standing forth the lining of his coke-likey, horse strapped to a drink in the water, and gentleman's back to unkindly, and then they coon right on to unseen, and a gentleman's face was so long and so gray, us veered a warner going to preach ye us. Quartz a king's bench, saideth one man, checker in place, saideth another, splish y'all commission, I doubt, saideth Bill Blacksmith, back by the mayor or taunting. Any justice of the king's peace, good people to be found near here, said a gentleman, lifting his hat to us, and very gracious in his manner. Your honor, saideth Bill, with his hat off his head, there be sacks of seven warships here, all on a very wisem, squire, martyre, there be the sinner. So the gentleman rolled up the squire martyre, and raised his cocked hat in a manner that took the squire out of countenance, for he could not do the like of it. Sir, he said, good and worshipful sir, I am here to claim your good advice and valor for purposes of justice. I told his majesty's commission to make a cease a notion rule, whose name is Thomas Fagus. With that he offered his commission, but squire martyre told the truth that he could not raid even words and pricks, much less written characters. Then the other magistrates rolled up and put their heads together, how to meet the London gentleman with our loss of importance. There were one of them as could raid Pyrrhod de Varric, and made out King's mark upon it, and he bowed upon his host to the gentleman, and he laid his hand on his heart and said, Worshipful sir, we, as has the honor of his gracious majesty's commission, are entirely at your service, and crave instructions from you. At least I seem to underrate the erudition of Devonshire magistrates. I venture to offer a copy of a letter from a justice of the peace to his bookseller, Circular 1810 AD, now in my possession. Sir, please suspend me the ass relating to Augustus Pax, AD of LD. Then a waving of hats began, and bowing, and making of legs to wane another, such as never swore seen before, but none of them all, for ambrading, could culminate the gentleman with the long gray face. Your warships have posted the men right well, said, as he would gather around all around. Surely that big roll will have no chance left among so many valent musketeers. Ha, what sea-eyed they are, my friend. Rust in the pan of your gun, that gun would never go off, sure as I am the king's commissioner, and I see another just as bad and low. There's a third. Pardon me, gentlemen. I have been so used to his majesty's ordinance yards, but I feel that bold rogue would ride through all of you and laugh at your warships' beards by George. But what shall us do, squire-mother asked? I fear there be no oil here. Discharge your pieces, gentlemen, and let the men do the same, or at least let us try to discharge them and load again with fresh powder. It is the fog of the morning, half-spoiled the premon. That rogue is not in sight yet, but God knows we must not be asleep with him, or what will his majesty say to me, if we let him slip once more. Excellent, wondrous, well-said, good sir, squire-mother answered him. I never should have thought of that now. Bill Blacksmith, tell all the men to be ready to shoot up into the air. Directly, I give the word. Now, are you ready there, Bill? Already a worship, saideth Bill, saluting like a soldier. Then, one, two, three, and shoot! Cry, squire-motherer, standing up in the arms of a stirrups. Thereupon they all blazed out, and the noise of it went all around the hills, with a gurt-thick cloud rising, and all the air smelling of powder. Before the cloud was gone so much as ten yards on the wind, the gentleman on the cool bald horse shuts up his face like a pair of nutcracks, as wide as it was long before, and now he pulls two gurt pistols alongside his saddle, and clappeth one to Squire-mother's head, and to other to serve Richard's billwits. Hand forth your money and all your warrants, he saideth like a clapper thunder. Gentlemen, have you now the wit to apprehend Tom Fagas? Squire-motherer swore so that he ought to be fine, but he poured out his purse none the slower for that, and so did Sir Richard Bellwith. First man I see go to load a gun, I'll get him the bullet to do it with, said Tom's, for you see was him, and no other, looking quietly round upon all of them. Then he robbed all the rest of their warships as pleasant as might be, and he saideth, Now gentlemen, do your duty, serve your warrants before you imprison me, and with that he made them give up all the warrants, and he stuck them in the band of his hats, and then he made a bow with it. Good morning to your warships now, and a merry Christmas all of you, and the merry of both for rich and poor, when gentlemen see their arms are given, least you deny yourselves a pleasure, I would aid your warships, and to save you the trouble of falling me when your guns be loaded. This is my strawberry mare, gentlemen, only with a little cream on her. Gentlemen all, in the name of the king, I thank you. All this while he was casting their money among the poor folk by the handful, and then he spank kindly to the red mare, and wore over the back of the hill in two seconds, and the best bought a two-mally away. I reckon a four-ever gun were loaded. The truth of this story is well established by first-rate tradition. For more information or to volunteer, please visit liberalrocks.org. Recording by Daisy 55. Lorna Dune by R. D. Blackmore, Chapter 40. Two Fools Together. That story of John Fry's, instead of causing any amusement, gave us great disquietude, not only because it showed that Tom Fagus could not resist sudden temptation and delight of wildness, but also that we greatly feared least the king's pardon might be annulled, and all his kindness canceled by reckless deed of that sort. It was true, as Annie insisted continually, even with tears, to wear in her arguments, that Tom had not brought away anything except the warrants, which were of no use at all, except the receipt of the pardon. Neither had he used any valence, except just the frightened people, but could it be established, even towards Christmas time, that Tom had a right to give alms, right and left, out of other people's money. Dear Annie appeared to believe that it could, saying that if the rich continually choose to forget the poor, a man who forced them to remember, and so to do good to themselves and to others, was a public benefit factor, and entitled to every blessing. But I knew, and so Lizzie knew, John Fry, being now out of hearing, that this was not sound argument. For if it came to that, any man might take the king by the throat, and make him cast away among the poor the money which he wanted, sadly, for her grace the duchess, and the beautiful countess of this and of that. Lizzie, of course, knew nothing about his majesty's diversions, which were not fit for a young maid's thought. But I now put the form of the argument as it occurred to me. Therefore I said, once for all, and both my sisters always listened, when I used the deep voice from my chest, Tom Fager's half done wrong hearing, wrong to himself, and to our Annie. All he needed have done was to show his pardon, and the magistrates would have rejoiced with him. He might have led a most godly life, and have been respected by everybody, and knowing how brave Tom is, I thought that he would have done as much. Now, if I were in love with a maid, I put it thus for the sake of poor Lizzie, never would I so imperil my life and her fortune in life along with me, for the sake of a poor diversion. A man's first duty is to the woman, who are forced to hang upon him. Oh, John, not that horrible word cried Annie to my great surprise in serious interruption. Oh, John, any word but that. And she burst forth crying terribly. What word, Lizzie? What does the winch mean? I asked in the satisfaction, seeing no good to ask Annie at all, for she carried on most dreadfully. Don't you know you stupid lout, said Lizzie, contemplating my wonderment by the scorn of her quicker intelligence, if you don't know acts about. And with that I was forced to be content, for Lizzie took Annie in such a manner, on purpose to vex me as I could see, with a hair dropping down, and a hair coming over, and tears and sobs rising and falling to boot, with I either order or reason, that seeing no good for a man to do, since neither of them was launder. I even went out into the courtyard and smoked a pipe and wonder what on earth is the meaning of woman. Now, in this I was wrong and unreasonable, as all woman will acknowledge, for sometimes a man is so put out by the way they take on about nothing, that he really can't help thinking, for at least a minute, that a woman are a mistake for ever, and hence are for ever mistaken. Nevertheless I could not see that any of these great thoughts and ideas applied at all to my launder, but that she was a different being, not woman enough to do anything bad, yet enough for a woman for man to adore. And now a thing came to pass which tested my adoration pretty sharply, in as much as I would fall, life or face, Carvedon and his father, nay, even the roaring lion himself of his hoofs and flaming nostrils, then have met in cold blood Sir Insarn Dune, the founder of all the colony and the fear of the very Pharisees. But that I was forced to do at this time, and in the matter following, when I went up one morning to look for my seven worksness, behold, there were but six to be seen, for the top most of them was all gone. And the most compictuous, I looked and looked, and rubbed my eyes and turned to try them by other sites, and then I looked again. Yes, there could be no doubt about it. The signal was made for me to come, because my love was in danger. For me to enter the valley now, during the broad daylight, could have brought no comfort, but only harm to the maiden and certain depth to myself. Yet it was more than I could do to keep all together at distance. Therefore, I ran to the nearest place where I could remain unseen and watch the glen from the wooden height for hours and hours impatiently. However, no impatient of mine made any difference in the scene upon which I was gazing. In the part of the valley which I could see, there was nothing moving except the water, and a full, stolen cows, going sadly along, as if known that they had no onus right there. It sank very heavily into my heart, with all the beds of dead leaves around it, and there was nothing I cared to do, except blow on my fingers and long for more wit. For a frost was beginning, which made a great difference to Lorna and to myself. I trove, as well as to all the five million people who dwell in this island of England, such a frost as never I saw before. Footnote, if John Reed lived until the year 1740, as so strong a man was bound to do, he must have seen almost a heart of frost, and perhaps to put an end to him, and for then he would be some four-score years old, but tradition makes him keep yacht, as he says, up to five-score years. Neither hope ever to see again a time when it was impossible to milk a cow for icicles, or for a man to shave some of his beard, as I like to do for Lorna's sake, because she was so smooth, without blunting his razor on hard gray ice. No man could keep yacht, as we say, even though he abandoned his work altogether, and thumped himself all on the chest and the front, till his frozen hands would have been bleeding except for the cold that kept still in all his veins. However, at present there was no frost, although for a fourth night threatening, and I was too young to know the meaning of the way the dead leaves hung, and the warm cast prickling like woman's combs, and the leading tone upon everything, and the dead weight of the sky. Guille Watcombe, the old man in Lynchmount, who had been half over the world almost, and who talked so much of the Gulf stream had, as our afterwards call to mind, foretold a very bitter winter this year. But no one would listen to him, because there were not so many hips and hauls as usual, whereas we have all learned from our grandfathers that Providence never sends very hard winters, without having furnished a large supply of berries for the birds to feed upon. It was lucky for me, while I waited there, that our very best sheep-dog, oh watch, had chosen to accompany me that day, for otherwise I must have had no dinner being unpersuaded, even by that, to quit my survey of the valley. However, by aid of poor watch, I contrived to obtain a supply of food, for I sent him home with a note to Annie, fastened upon his chest, and in less than an hour back he came, proud enough to wag his tail off, with his tongue hanging out from the speed of his journey, and a large lump of bread and a bacon fasten and a napkin around his neck. I had not told my sister, of course, what was toward, for mine, should I make our anxious. When it grew towards dark, I was just beginning to prepare for my circuit around the hills, but suddenly, watch gave a long, low growl. I kept myself close as possible and ordered the dog to be silent, and presently saw a short figure approaching from a thickly wooden hollow on the left side of my hiding-place. It was the same figure I had seen once before in the moonlight at Paola's boroughs, and proved to my great delight to be the little maid Gweny Carfax. She started the moment at seeing me, but more was surprised than fear, and then she laid both her hands upon me as if she had known me for twenty years. Young man, she said, he must come with me. I was gone all way to fetch thee. O man, it be dine, and her can't dine, or at least her won't, with our first considering thee. Considering me, I cried, what can syrians or dunes want with considering me? Has Mistress Lorna told him? All concerning thee and thy thorns. When she know'd, O man, was so near his end, that the vex he was about thy lowest blood, all thought her would come to life again on purpose for the baby. But after all, there can't be scarcely such bad luck as that. Now, if a stroke thee though must take it, there be no denying of'n. The fire hath seen for, hot and red and raging, but hath never seen cold fire for, and it maketh me burn and shiver. And in truth, it made me burn and shiver, to know that I must either go straight to the presence of Sir Enzo Dune, or give up Lorna once for all, and rightly be despised by her. For the first time of my life, I thought that she had not acted fairly. Why not leave the old man in peace without vexing him about my affair? But presently, saw again, that in his manner she was right, that she could not receive the old man's blessing, supposing that he had won a gift, which even a worse man might suppose, while she deceived him about herself in the life she had undertaken. Therefore with great misgivings of myself, but no ill will thought of my darling, I sent watch home, and followed Guinea, who led me along very rapidly, with her short, broad form guiding down the hollow from which she had first appeared. Here at the bottom, she entered a thicket of gray-ashed stubs and black holly, with rocks around it gnarled with roots and hung with mask of ivy. Here, in a dark and lonely corner, with a pixie ring before it, she came to a narrow door, very brown and solid, looking like a trunk of wood at a little distance. Then she opened, without a key, by stooping down and pressing it, where the threshold met the jam, and then she ran in very nimbly, but I was forced to be bent in two, and even so without comfort. The passage was close and difficult, and as dark as any black pitch, but it was not long, be it as it might, and in that there was some comfort. We came out soon at the other end, and were at the top of Dune Valley, and the chilly dusk air looked most untempting, especially during that state of mind under which I was laboring. As we crossed towards the captain's house, we met a couple of great dunes lounging by the water side. Guinea said something to them, and although they stared very hard at me, they let me pass of our hinduance. It is not much to say that when the little maid opened Sir Inser's door, my heart thumped, quite as much with terror as with hope of Lorna's presence. But in a moment the fear was gone, for Lorna was trembling in my arms, and my courage rose to comfort her. The darling feared, beyond all things else, least I should be offended with her for what she has said to her grandfather, and for dragging me into his presence. But I told her almost a falsehood, the first and the last, that ever I did tell her, to wit that I cared not that much, and showed her the tip of my thumb, as I said it, for old Sir Inser, in all his wrath, so long as I had his grand daughter's love. Now I try to think this as I said it, so as to save it from being alive, but somehow or another, it did not answer, and I was vexed with myself both ways. But Lorna took me by the hand as bravely as she could, and led me into the little passage where I could hear the river moaning and the branches rustling. He I passed as long a minute as fear ever cheated time of, saying to myself continually that there was nothing to be frightened at, yet growing more and more afraid by reason of so reasoning. And last my Lorna came back very pale, as I saw by the candle she carried, and whispered, Now be patient, dearest, never mind what he says to you, neither attempt to answer him, look at him gently, and steadfastly. And if you can, with some show of reverence, but above all things, no compassion, it drives him almost mad. Now come, walk very quietly. She led me into a cold, dark room, rough and very gloomy, although with two candles burning, I took loot a heed of the things in it, though I marked that the window was open, that which I need was an old man, very stern and calmly, and with death upon his countenance, yet not lying in his bed, but set upright in a chair with a loose red cloak thrown over him. Upon this, his white hair fell, and his pale fingers lay in a ghastly fashion, without a sign of life or movement, or of the power that kept him up, all rich, calm, and relentless. Only in his great black eyes, fixed upon me solemnly, all the power of his body dwelt, all the life of his soul was burning. I could not look at him very nicely, being afeard of the death in his face, and most afeard to show it, and to tell the truth, my poor blue eyes fell away from the blackness of his, as if it had been my coffin plate. Therefore I made a low obedience, and tried not to shiver, only I groaned that Lona thought it good manners to leave us two together. No, said the old man, and his voice seemed to come from a cavern of skeletons. Now you that great John Ridd, John Ridd is my name, your honor, was all that I could answer, and I hope your worship is better. What you have, and you sense nothing know what you have been doing? Yes, I knew right well, I answer, that I have set my eyes far above my rank. Are you ignorant, that Lona Dune is one of the oldest families remaining in northern Europe? I was ignorant of that, your worship, yet I knew of her high descent from the dunes of Backworthy. The whole man's eyes, like fire, probed me whether I was gesting, then perceiving how grave I was, and thinking that I could not laugh as many people supposed me. He took upon himself to make the good deficiency with a very bitter smile. And know you of your own descent from the reeds of Ori? Sir, I answer, being as yet unaccustomed to this style of speech, the reeds of Ori have been honest men twice as long as the dunes have been rogues. And would not answer for that, John. Sir, answer replied very quietly, when I expect the fury. If it be so, our family is the very oldest in Europe. Not harking to me boy, or clown, or honest fool, or whatever that art. Harking to an old man's words, who has not many hours to live. There is nothing in the world a fair. Nothing to reveal, trust, nothing even to hope for. At least of all, is there art to love. I hope your worship is not quite right, I answer, with great misgivings. Else it is a sad mistake for anybody to live, sir. Therefore, he continued, as if I had never spoken. Though it may seem hard for a week or two, like the loss of any other Torah, not deprive you of nothing. But add to your comfort, and there be such a thing to your happiness. When I forbid you ever to see that foolish child again, all marriage is as a wretched farce. Even when a man and one belong to the same rank of life, have temper well assorted, similar likes and dislikes, and about the same pendants of mine. But when they are not so matched, the farce will become a long dull tragedy. If anything were worth lamenting, there I have reason enough for you. I am not in the habit of reasoning, though I have a lot of confidence in man's honor. I have some reliance in woman's pride. You will pledge your word on Lana's presence, never to see or to seek her again. Never even to think of her any more. Now call for her, for I am weary. He kept his eye fixed upon me with their icy fire, as if he scorned both life and death. And on his haughty lips, some slight amusement at my trouble. And then he raised one hand as if I were a poor dumb creature, and pointed to the door. Although my heart rebelled and kindled at this proud disdain, I could not disobey him freely. But I made a low salute, and went straight away in search of Lana. I found my love, or not my love, according as now she should behave, for I was very desperate, being put upon so sadly. Lana doomed with crying softly at a little window, and listening to the river's grief. I laid my heavy arm around her, not with any air of claiming or forcing her thoughts to me, but only just to comfort her and ask what she was thinking of. To my arm she made no answer, neither to seeking eyes, but to my heart. Once for all, she spoke with her upon yet. Not a word, no sound between us, not even a kiss was interchanged. But man or maiden, who has ever loved half-learning our understanding. Therefore it came to pass that we saw fit to enter Syrenza's room in the fallen manner. Lana, with her right hand swallowed entirely by the palm of mind, and her waist retired from view by means of my left arm. All one side of her hair came down in a way to be remembered upon the left and fairest part of my favorite outer skin waistcoat. And her head as well would have lain there doubtless, but for the danger of walking so. I, for my part, was too far gone to lag behind in the matter, but carried my love bravely, fearing neither death nor hell while she abode beside me. Old Syrenza looked much astonished. For forty years he had been obeyed and feared by all around him. And he knew that I had feared him vastly before I got hold of Lana. And indeed I was still afraid of him, only for loving Lana's soul and having to protect her. Then I made him a bow to the very best of all I had learned, both at Tiviton and in London. After that I waited for him to begin as became his age in white. Ye too fools! He said at last with a deep of contempt which no words may express, ye too fools! May I please your worship, I answer softly. Maybe we are not such fools as we look. But though we be, we are well content so long as we be too fools together. Why, John, said the old man, with a spark as of smiling in his eyes, thou art not all together the clumsy as yoke and the clawed. I took thee for. Oh no, grandfather, oh dear grandfather cried Lana, with such zeal and flashing that her hands went forward. Nobody knows what John Ridge is. Because he is so modest, I mean nobody except me dear. And here she turned to me again and rose upon Tiptoe and kissed me. I have seen a little of the world, said the old man, while I was half ashamed, although so proud of Lana. But this is beyond all I have seen. And nearly all I have heard of. It is more fit for southern climbers than for the fogs of Exmoor. It is fit for all the world, your worship, with your honors good leave and will, I answered in homily, being still ashamed of it. When it happens so to people, there is nothing that can stop it, sir. Now Sir Inza Dune was leaning back upon his brown cheer rail, which was built like a triangle, as in old farmhouses, from one of which it had come, no doubt, free from expense of gratitude. And as I spoke, he coughed a little, and he sighed a good deal more, and perhaps his dying heart desired to open time again, was such a lift of warmth and hope as he described in our eyes and arms. I couldn't understand him then, any more than a baby playing with his grandfather's spectacles. Nevertheless, I wonder whether, at his time of life, or rather, on the blink of death, he was thinking of his youth and pride. Fools, you are. Fools, you are. Be fools forever, said Sir Inza Dune. At last, while we feared to break his thoughts, but let each other know our own, with little ways of pleasure, it is the best thing I can wish you. You, boy and girl, be boy and girl, until you have grandchildren. Partly in bitterness, he spoke, and partly in pure weariness, and then he turned so as not to see us, and his white hair fell like a shroud around him. CHAPTER 41 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Francesca. Lorna Dune, by R. D. Blackmore. Chapter 41. Cold Comfort All things being full of flaw, all things being full of holds, the strength of all things is in shortness. If Sir Inza Dune had dwelled for half an hour upon himself, and an hour perhaps upon Lorna and me, we must both have worried of him, and require change of air. But now I long to see and know a great deal more about him, and hope that he might not go to heaven for at least a week or more. However, he was too good for this world, as we say of all people who leave it, and I verily believe his heart was not a bad one after all. Evil he had done no doubt, as evil had been done to him, yet how many have done evil while receiving only good? Be that as it may, and not vexing a question, settled forever without our votes, let us own that he was at least a brave and courteous gentleman. And his loss aroused great lamentation, not among the dunes alone, and the women they had carried off, but also of the general public, and many even of the magistrates, for several miles round Exmo. And this not only from fear less one more wicked might succeed him, as appeared indeed too probable, but from true admiration of his strong will, and sympathy with his misfortunes. I will not deceive anyone by saying that Sir Ancer Dunes gave, in so many words, his consent to my resolve about Lorna. This he never did, except by his speech last written down, from which, as he mentioned gen children, a lawyer perhaps might have argued it. Not but what he may have meant to be stow on us his blessing, only that he died next day, without taking the trouble to do it. He called indeed for his box of snuff, which was a very high thing to take, and which he never took without being in very good humour at least for him, and though it would not go up his nostrils, through the failure of his breath, he was pleased to have it there, and not to think of dying. Will your honour have it wiped? I asked him very softly, for the brown appearance of it spoiled to my idea his white moustachio. But he seemed to shake his head, and I thought it kept his spirits up. I had never before seen anyone do what all of us have to do some day, and it greatly kept my spirits down, although it did not so very much frighten me. For it takes a man but a little while, his instinct being of death perhaps, at least as much as of life, which accounts for his slaying his fellow man so, and every other creature. It does not take a man very long to enter into another man's death, and bring his own mood to suit it. He knows that his own is sure to come, and nature is fond of the practice, hence it came to pass that I, after easing my mother's fears and seeing a little to business, returned, as if drawn by a polar needle to the deathbed of Sir Ansel. There was some little confusion, people wanting to get away, and people trying to come in from downright curiosity, of all things the most hateful, and others making great to do, and talking of their own time to come, telling their own age, and so on. But everyone seemed to think, or feel that I had a right to be there, because the women took that view of it. As for Carver and Counselor, they were minding their own affairs so as to win the succession, and never found it in their business, at least so long as I was there, to come near the dying man. He, for his part, never asked for anyone to come near him, not even a priest, nor a monk, or friar, but seemed to be going his own way, peaceful, and well-contented. Only the chief of the women said that from his face she believed and knew well that he liked to have me at one side of his bed, and Lorna upon the other. In our tour the old man died, when only we two were with him. He looked at us both very dimly and softly, as if he wished to do something for us, but had left it now too late. Lorna hoped that he wanted to bless us, but he only frowned at that, and let his hand drop downward and crooked one knotted finger. He wants something out of the bed, dear, Lorna whispered to me. See what it is, upon your side there. I followed the bent of his poor shrunken hand and sought among the pylings, and there I felt something hard and sharp, and drew forth and gave it to him. It fleshed like the spray of a fountain upon us in the dark winter of the room. He could not take it in his hand, but let it hang as daisies do, only making Lorna see that he meant her to have it. Why it is my necklace, Lorna cried, in great surprise. My necklace he always promised me, and from which you have got the ring, John. But grandfather kept it, because the children wanted to pull it from my neck. My, I have it now, dear grandfather, not unless you wish, dear. Darling Lorna wept again, because the old man could not tell her, except by one very feeble knot that she was doing what he wished. Then she gave to me the trinket for the sake of safety, and I stowed it in my breast. He seemed to me to follow this, and to be well content with it. Before Sir Ancerdune was buried, the greatest frost of the century had set in, with its iron hand and step of stone on everything. How it came is not my business, nor can I explain it, because I have never watched the skies, as people now begin to do when the ground is not to their liking. Though of all this I know nothing, and less than nothing I may say, because I ought to know something. I can hear what people tell me, and I can see before my eyes. The strong men broke three good pig-exes, ere they got through the hard brown socks streaked with little maps of grey, where old Sir Ancerdune was to lie upon his back, awaiting the darkness of the judgment day. It was on the little chapel yard. I will not tell the name of it, because we are now such Protestants, that I might do it in evil turn. Only it was the little place where Lorna's answer binally. He was I, remaining long with a little curiosity, because some people told me plainly that I must be damned forever by a paper's funeral. And here came Lorna, scarcely breathing through the thick of stuff around her, yet with all her little breath steaming on the air like frost. I stood apart from the ceremony in which, of course, I was not entitled, either by birth or religion, to bear any portion. And indeed it would have been wiser in me to have kept away altogether. For now there was no one to protect me among those wild and lawless men, and both Carver and the councillor had vowed a fearful vengeance on me, as I heard from Guany. They had not dared to meddle with me while the chief lay dying, nor was it in their policy, for a short time after that, to endanger their succession by an open breach with Lorna, whose tender age and beauty held so many of the youth enthralled. The ancient outlaw's funeral was a grand and moving sight, more perhaps from the sense of contrast than from that of fitness. To see those dark and mighty men inured to all of sin and crime, reckless both of men and God, yet now with heads devoutly bent, clasped hands and downcast eyes following the long black coffin of their common ancestor, to the place where they must join him when their sum of ill was done. And to see the feeble priest chanting over the dead form, words the living would have laughed at, sprinkling with those little broom drops that could not purify, while the children roped in white, swung their smoking senses slowly over the cold and twilight grave. And after seeing all to ask with a shudder unexpressed, is this the end that God intended for a man so proud and strong? Not a tear was shed upon him, except from the sweetest of all sweet eyes, not a sigh pursued him home. Except in hot anger his life had been cold and bitter and distant, and now a week had exhausted all the sorrow of those around him, a grief flowing less from affection than fear. Aged man will show his tombstone, mothers haste with their infants by it, children shrink from the name upon it, until in time his history shall lapse and be forgotten by all except the great judge and God. After all was over, I strode across the moors very sadly, trying to keep the cold away by virtue of quick movement. Not a flake of snow had fallen yet, all the earth was caked and hard, with a dry brown crust upon it, all the sky was banged with darkness, heart, austere and frowning. The fog of the last three weeks was gone, neither did any rhyme remain, but all things had a look of sameness and a kind of fuzzy colour. It was freezing hard and sharp, with a pierced wind to back it, and I had observed that the holy water froze upon Sir Ansel's coffin. One thing struck me with some surprise as I made off for our fireside, with a strong determination to heave an ash tree up the chimney-place, and that was how the birds were going, rather than flying as they used to fly. All the birds were set in one direction, steadily journeying westward, not with any heat of speed, neither flying far at once, but all, as if on business bound, partly running, partly flying, partly fluttering along. Silently and without voice, neither pricking head nor tail, this movement of the birds went on. Even for a week or more, every kind of thrushes passed us, every kind of wild fowl, even plovers went away, and crowds and snipes and woodcocks. And before half the frost was over, all we had in the snowy ditches were hairs to tame so we could pet them, partridges that came to hand, with a dry noise in their crops, heath poles making cups of snow, and a few poor hopping red wings, flipping in and out the hedge, having lost the power to fly. And all the time, that great black eye set with gold around them, seemed to look at any men for mercy and for comfort. Annie took many of them, all that she could find herself, and all the boys would bring her, and she made a great hutch near the fire in the back-kitchen chimney-place. Here, in spite of our old Betty, who sadly wanted to roast them, Annie kept some fifty birds, with bread and milk and growl-chopped meat, and all the seeds she could think of, and lumps of rotten apples, place to tempt them in corners. Some got on, and some died off, and Annie cried for all that died, and buried them under the wood-rick. But I do assure you it was a pretty thing, to see when she went to them in the morning. There was not a bird but knew her well after one day of comforting, and some would come to her hand and sit, and shut one eye, and look at her. Then she used to stroke their heads, and feel their breath, and talk to them. And not a bird of them all was there but liked to have it done to him, and I do believe they would eat from her hand, things unnatural to them, lest she should be grieved and hurt by not knowing what to do for them. One of them was a noble bird, such as I had never seen before, a very fine bright plumage, and larger than a missile-thrush. He was the hardest of all to please, and yet he tried to do his best. I have heard since then from a man who knows all about birds, and beasts, and fishes, that he must have been a Norwegian bird, called in his country a roller, who never comes to England but in the most tremendous winters. Another little bird there was, whom I longed to welcome home, and protect from enemies, a little bird no native to us, but then any native dearer. But, lo, in the very night which followed Old Sir and Sir Funeral, such a storm of snow began, as never have I heard or read off, neither could have drummed it. At what time of night it first began is more than I can say, at least from my own knowledge, for we all went to bed soon after supper, being cold and not inclined to talk. At that time the wind was moaning sadly, and the sky as dark as a wood, and the straw in the yard swirling round and round, the cows huddling into the great cowhouse, with their chins upon one another. But we, being blinder than they, I suppose, and not having had a great snow for years, made no preparation against the storm, except that the lambing ews were in the shelter. It struck me, as I lay in bed, that we were acting foolishly, for an ancient shepherd had dropped in and taken supper with us, and foretold a heavy fall and great disaster to livestock. He said that he had known a frost beginning, just as this had done, with a black east wind after days of raw cold fog, and then on the third night of the frost, at this very time of year, to wit on the fifteenth of December, such a snow set in as killed half of the sheep, and many even of the red deer, and the forest ponies. It was three score years ago, he said, footnote the frost of 1625, and course he had to remember it in as much as two of his toes had been lost by frostnip, while he dug out his sheep on the other side of the dunkery. Hereupon mother nodded at him, having heard from her father about it, and how three men had been frozen to death, and how badly their stockings came off from them. Remembering how the old men looked, and his manner of listening to the wind, and shaking his head very ominously, when any gave him a glass of schnaps, I grew quite uneasy in my bed, as the room got colder and colder, and I made up my mind, if it only pleased God not to send the snow till the morning, that every sheep and horse and cow, I, and even the poultry, should be brought in snog, and with plenty to eat and fodder enough to roast them. Allas, what use of a man's resolve, when they come a day too late, even if they may avail a little, when they are most punctual. In the bitter morning I arose to follow of my purpose, knowing the time from the false of habit, although the room was so dark and grey. A not-white light was on the rafters, such as I had never seen before, while all the length of the room was grisly, like the heart of a moldy otric. I went to the window at once, of course, and at first I could not understand what was doing outside of it. It was faced due east, as I may have said, with the walnut tree partly sheltering it, and generally I could see the yard, and the woodrick, and even the church beyond. But now half the lettuce was quite blocked up, as it plastered with grey lime, and little fringes like ferns came through where the joining of the lead was. And on the only undarkened part countless dots came swarming, clustering, beating with a soft low sound, then gliding down in a slippery manner, not as drops of reindeer, but each distinct from his neighbour. Inside the iron frame, which fitted, not to say too comfortably, and went along stonework, at least a pack of snow had entered, following its own bend and fancy, light as any cobweb. With some trouble and great care, lest the ancient frame should yield, I spread the lettuce open, and saw at once that, under moment, must be lost to save our stock. All the earth was flat with snow, all the air was thick with snow, more than this no man could see, for all the world was snowing. I shut the window, and dressed in haste, and when I entered the kitchen, not even Betty, the earliest of all birds, was there. I raked the ashes together a little, just to see a spark of warmth, and then set forth to find John Fry, Jam Slokam, and Bill Dads. But this was easier thought than done, for when I opened the courtyard door, I was taken up to my knees at once, and the power of the drifting cloud prevented sight of anything. However, I found my way to the woodrick, and there got hold of a fine ash stag, cut by myself not long ago. With this I ploughed along pretty well, and thundered so hard, and on Fry's door, that he thought it was the dunes at least, and cocked his blonde bus out of the window. John was very loath to come down, when he saw the meaning of it, for he valued his life more than anything else, though he tried to make out that his wife was to blame. But I settled his doubts by telling him that I would have him on my shoulder naked, unless he came in five minutes. Not that he could do much good, but because the other men would be sure to skulk, if he set them the example. With spades and shovels and pitchforks, and a round of roping, we four set forth to dig out the sheep, and the poor things knew that it was high time.