ENTY-NINTH. NOON

Exactly seven days after Edward Springrove had seen the man with the
bundle of straw walking down the streets of Casterbridge, old Farmer
Springrove was standing on the edge of the same pavement, talking to his
friend, Farmer Baker.

There was a pause in their discourse. Mr. Springrove was looking down
the street at some object which had attracted his attention. 'Ah, 'tis
what we shall all come to!' he murmured.

The other looked in the same direction. 'True, neighbour Springrove;
true.'

Two men, advancing one behind the other in the middle of the road, were
what the farmers referred to. They were carpenters, and bore on their
shoulders an empty coffin, covered by a thin black cloth.

'I always feel a satisfaction at being breasted by such a sight as
that,' said Springrove, still regarding the men's sad burden. 'I call it
a sort of medicine.'

'And it is medicine.... I have not heard of any body being ill up this
way lately? D'seem as if the person died suddenly.'

'May be so. Ah, Baker, we say sudden death, don't we? But there's no
difference in their nature between sudden death and death of any other
sort. There's no such thing as a random snapping off of what was laid
down to last longer. We only suddenly light upon an end--thoughtfully
formed as any other--which has been existing at that very same point
from the beginning, though unseen by us to be so soon.'

'It is just a discovery to your own mind, and not an alteration in the
Lord's.'

'That's it. Unexpected is not as to the thing, but as to our sight.'

'Now you'll hardly believe me, neighbour, but this little scene in front
of us makes me feel less anxious about pushing on wi' that threshing and
winnowing next week, that I was speaking about. Why should we not stand
still, says I to myself, and fling a quiet eye upon the Whys and
the Wherefores, before the end o' it all, and we go down into the
mouldering-place, and are forgotten?'

''Tis a feeling that will come. But 'twont bear looking into. There's a
back'ard current in the world, and we must do our utmost to advance in
order just to bide where we be. But, Baker, they are turning in here
with the coffin, look.'

The two carpenters had borne their load into a narrow way close at hand.
The farmers, in common with others, turned and watched them along the
way.

''Tis a man's coffin, and a tall man's, too,' continued Farmer
Springrove. 'His was a fine frame, whoever he was.'