otten
as they walked along from the rectory gates, passing, as they reached
the main road, a party of gipsies on their way to the next town with
their van and cart, both drawn by the most miserable specimens of the
four-legged creature known as horse imaginable, and followed by about
seven or eight more horses and ponies, all of which found time to crop a
little grass by the roadside as cart and van were dragged slowly along.

It was not an attractive-looking procession, but the gipsies themselves
seemed active and well, and the children riding or playing about the
vehicles appeared to be happy enough, and the swarthy, dark-eyed women,
both old and young, good-looking.

Just in front of the van, a big dark man of forty slouched along, with a
whip under his arm, and a black pipe in his mouth; and every now and
then he seemed to remember that he had the said whip, and took it in
hand, to give it a crack which sounded like a pistol shot, with the
result that the horse in the van threw up its head, which had hung down
toward the road, and the other skeleton-like creature in the cart threw
up its tail with a sharp whisk that disturbed the flies which appeared
to have already begun to make a meal upon its body, while the scattered
drove of ragged ponies and horses ceased cropping the roadside herbage,
and trotted on a few yards before beginning to eat again.

"They're going on to some fair," said Macey, as he looked curiously at
the horses. "I say, you wouldn't think anyone would buy such animals as
those."

"Want to buy a pony, young gentlemen?" said the man with the pipe,
sidling up to them.

"What for?" said Macey sharply. "Scarecrow? We're not farmers."

The man grinned.

"And we don't keep dogs," continued Macey. "Oh, I say, George, you have
got a pretty lot to-day."

The gipsy frowned and gave his whip a crack.

"Only want cleaning up, master," he said.

"Going to the fair?"

The man nodded and went on, for all this was said without the two lads
stopping; and directly after, driving a miserable halting pony which
could hardly get over the ground, a couple of big hulking lads of
sixteen or seventeen appeared some fifty yards away.

"Oh, I say, Vane," cried Macey; "there's that chap you licked last year.
You'll see how he'll smile at you."

"I should like to do it again," said Vane. "Look at them banging that
poor pony about. What a shame it seems!"

"Yes. You ought to invent a machine for doing a