ic in womanhood. She had said many a
kind word to him over his work, and little Miss Mary had come and
watched him with intense interest, eager chatter, and many questions
when he was mending the gate.

He was obliged to go down to the bridge at Downhill so as to cross the
river, but there were lights in the houses, and a sound of singing in
the "Blue Lion," which made him get into the fields behind as soon as
possible, though by this time it was quite dark, so that he had to guide
himself as well as he could by the lights in the windows. This led to a
great many wanderings and stumbles, since he did not know every field
with its gates and gaps as well as he knew Uphill, so that he lost a
good deal of time by blundering about, looking for a lighter space in
the hedge which might or might not lead into the next field. He made
his way up to the opening. It proved to be a gap, but lately mended,
and he ran a couple of thorns deep into his hand before he tumbled over
into a ditch.

This was a grass field, and he heard the coughings of an old sheep, and
the suppressed baaings of the others, finding himself presently outside
their fold. He guided himself along by the hurdles and came to deep
ruts in stiff clay, but these led to a gate, and that into a narrow and
muddy lane. This he knew would bring him back to the high road, and
that was comparatively plain sailing.

Still there was Poppleby to go through, though not for several miles,
which he tramped along, quietly enough, not meeting any one, but
beginning to hear the sounds of the night-loving animals.

Owls flew about with their hootings and snappings, startling him a good
deal, as much from some notions of bad luck as from wonder at first if
it were a human shout. Then the lights of Poppleby were welcome to his
eyes, and as they were chiefly in the upper windows he thought the town
must be safe to walk through without fear of being met and stopped.
Gas-lamps hardly existed then and Poppleby was all dark except for the
big lamps over the public-house doors, and this was well for Johnnie,
for just as he was about to pass the "Blue Lion," the door was thrown
open, and a whole party came swaggering and staggering out, singing at
the tops of their voices. Johnnie had time to throw himself into a
garden behind a hedge, and heard them pass by, holloaing rather than
singing out--

"Down, down with they machines
That takes the poor folks' bread."

There was s