nty made to strike your neighbour as forcibly as yourself:
of which felicity of propagation verbal wit cannot always boast. In the
line of procession, the hat of a member of the corps shot sheer into the
sky from the compressed energy of his brain; for he and all his comrades
vociferously denied having cast it up, and no other solution was
possible. This mysterious incident may tell you that beer was thus
early in the morning abroad. In fact, it was the procession day of a
provincial Club-feast or celebration of the nuptials of Beef and Beer;
whereof later you shall behold the illustrious offspring.

All the Brookfield household were now upon the lawn, awaiting the
attack. Mr. Pole would have liked to impound the impouring host, drum
and all, for the audacity of the trespass, and then to have fed them
liberally, as a return for the compliment. Aware that he was being
treated to the honours of a great man of the neighbourhood, he
determined to take it cheerfully.

"Come; no laughing!" he said, directing a glance at the maids who were
ranged behind their mistresses. "'Hem! we must look pleased: we mustn't
mind their music, if they mean well."

Emilia, whose face was dismally screwed up at the nerve-searching
discord, said: "Why do they try to play anything but a drum?"

"In the country, in the country;" Mr. Pole emphasized. "We put up with
this kind of thing in the country. Different in town; but we--a--say
nothing in the country. We must encourage respect for the gentry, in the
country. One of the penalties of a country life. Not much harm in it.
New duties in the country."

He continued to speak to himself. In proportion as he grew aware of the
unnecessary nervous agitation into which the drum was throwing him, he
assumed an air of repose, and said to Wilfrid: "Read the paper to-day?"
and to Arabella, "Quiet family dinner, I suppose?"

"Yes, sir," he remarked to Mr. Barrett, as if resuming an old
conversation: "I dare say, you've seen better marching in foreign parts.
Right--left; right--left. Ha! ha! And not so bad, not so bad, I call it!
with their right--left; right--left. Ha! ha! You've seen better. No
need to tell me that. But, in England, we look to the meaning of things.
We're a practical people. What's more, we're volunteers. Volunteers in
everything. We can't make a regiment of ploughmen march like clock-work
in a minute; and we don't want to. But, give me the choice; I'll back a
body of volunteers any da