ke that, though good and
bad have lived among us.'

'There was Georgy Crookhill--he was one of the shady sort, as I have
reason to know,' observed the registrar, with the manner of a man who
would like to have his say also.

'I used to hear what he was as a boy at school.'

'Well, as he began so he went on. It never got so far as a hanging
matter with him, to be sure; but he had some narrow escapes of penal
servitude; and once it was a case of the biter bit.'

INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF MR. GEORGE CROOKHILL

'One day,' the registrar continued, 'Georgy was ambling out of Melchester
on a miserable screw, the fair being just over, when he saw in front of
him a fine-looking young farmer riding out of the town in the same
direction. He was mounted on a good strong handsome animal, worth fifty
guineas if worth a crown. When they were going up Bissett Hill, Georgy
made it his business to overtake the young farmer. They passed the time
o' day to one another; Georgy spoke of the state of the roads, and jogged
alongside the well-mounted stranger in very friendly conversation. The
farmer had not been inclined to say much to Georgy at first, but by
degrees he grew quite affable too--as friendly as Georgy was toward him.
He told Crookhill that he had been doing business at Melchester fair, and
was going on as far as Shottsford-Forum that night, so as to reach
Casterbridge market the next day. When they came to Woodyates Inn they
stopped to bait their horses, and agreed to drink together; with this
they got more friendly than ever, and on they went again. Before they
had nearly reached Shottsford it came on to rain, and as they were now
passing through the village of Trantridge, and it was quite dark, Georgy
persuaded the young farmer to go no further that night; the rain would
most likely give them a chill. For his part he had heard that the little
inn here was comfortable, and he meant to stay. At last the young farmer
agreed to put up there also; and they dismounted, and entered, and had a
good supper together, and talked over their affairs like men who had
known and proved each other a long time. When it was the hour for
retiring they went upstairs to a double-bedded room which Georgy
Crookhill had asked the landlord to let them share, so sociable were
they.

'Before they fell asleep they talked across the room about one thing and
another, running from this to that till the conversation turned upon
disguises,