your bread and
milk up, and 'bide where you are; that's a snug little corner for you,
where you'll be warm and safe. Is Father coming too, and Neighbour
Ursula?"

"Yes, they're both coming presently," said Cissy.

The next arrival was that of two gentlemen, the preacher and a friend.
After this people began to drop in, at first by twos and threes, and as
the time drew near, with more rapidity. The Mounts and Rose Allen came
early; Elizabeth Foulkes was late, for she had hard work to get away at
all. Last of anybody was Margaret Thurston and with her a tall,
strong-looking man, who was John Thurston, her husband. John Johnson
found out the corner where his children were, and made his way to them;
but Rose Allen had been before him, and was seated next to Cissy,
holding the little hand in hers. On the other side of little Will sat
an old lady with grey hair, and a very sweet, kind face. She was Mrs
Silverside, the widow of a priest. By her was Mrs Ewring the miller's
wife, who was a little deaf, and wanted to get near the preacher.

When the room was full, Mr Pulleyne, who was to preach that evening,
rose and came forward to the table, and gave out the Forty-Second Psalm.

They had no hymn-books, as we have. There were just a few hymns,
generally bound up at the end of the Prayer-Book, which had been written
during the reign of good King Edward the Sixth; but hardly any English
hymns existed at all then. They had one collection of metrical Psalms--
that of Sternhold and Hopkins, of which we never sing any now except the
Hundredth--that version known to every one, beginning--

"All people that on earth do dwell."

The Psalms they sang then sound strange to us now but we must remember
they did not sound at all strange to those who sang them. Here are two
verses of the Forty-Second.

"Like as the hart doth pant and bray,
The well-springs to obtain,
So doth my soul desire alway
With Thee, Lord, to remain.
My soul doth thirst, and would draw near
The living God of might;
Oh, when shall I come and appear
In presence of His sight!

"The tears all times are my repast,
Which from mine eyes do slide;
Whilst wicked men cry out so fast,
`Where now is God thy Guide?'
Alas! what grief is it to think
The freedom once I had!
Therefore my soul, as at pit's brink,
Most heavy is and sad."

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Note 1. Peaked: V