was trimmed with pink, and her frock had pink spots, sprinkled on a
white ground. There was nothing but pink and white about her, except
in her dark hair and eyes and her little buckled shoes. Mrs. Poyser
was provoked at herself, for she could hardly keep from smiling, as any
mortal is inclined to do at the sight of pretty round things. So she
turned without speaking, and joined the group outside the house door,
followed by Hetty, whose heart was fluttering so at the thought of some
one she expected to see at church that she hardly felt the ground she
trod on.

And now the little procession set off. Mr. Poyser was in his Sunday suit
of drab, with a red-and-green waistcoat and a green watch-ribbon having
a large cornelian seal attached, pendant like a plumb-line from that
promontory where his watch-pocket was situated; a silk handkerchief of a
yellow tone round his neck; and excellent grey ribbed stockings, knitted
by Mrs. Poyser's own hand, setting off the proportions of his leg. Mr.
Poyser had no reason to be ashamed of his leg, and suspected that the
growing abuse of top-boots and other fashions tending to disguise the
nether limbs had their origin in a pitiable degeneracy of the human
calf. Still less had he reason to be ashamed of his round jolly face,
which was good humour itself as he said, "Come, Hetty--come, little
uns!" and giving his arm to his wife, led the way through the causeway
gate into the yard.

The "little uns" addressed were Marty and Tommy, boys of nine and seven,
in little fustian tailed coats and knee-breeches, relieved by rosy
cheeks and black eyes, looking as much like their father as a very small
elephant is like a very large one. Hetty walked between them, and behind
came patient Molly, whose task it was to carry Totty through the yard
and over all the wet places on the road; for Totty, having speedily
recovered from her threatened fever, had insisted on going to church
to-day, and especially on wearing her red-and-black necklace outside her
tippet. And there were many wet places for her to be carried over this
afternoon, for there had been heavy showers in the morning, though now
the clouds had rolled off and lay in towering silvery masses on the
horizon.

You might have known it was Sunday if you had only waked up in the
farmyard. The cocks and hens seemed to know it, and made only crooning
subdued noises; the very bull-dog looked less savage, as if he would
have been satisfied with a sma