son, I tell you ay,' quo' the miller. ''Twill
cost them their lives.' At which millstone conceit was a great laugh;
and in the general mirth the fees were paid and the Christians made.

"But when the next parishioner's child, and the next after, and all, had
to pay each his burial fee, or lose his place in heaven, discontent did
secretly rankle in the parish. Well, one fine day they met in
secret, and sent a churchwarden with a complaint to the bishop, and a
thunderbolt fell on the poor cure. Came to him at dinner-time a summons
to the episcopal palace, to bring the parish books and answer certain
charges. Then the cure guessed where the shoe pinched. He left his food
on the board, for small his appetite now, and took the parish books and
went quaking.

"The bishop entertained him with a frown, and exposed the plaint.
'Monseigneur,' said the cure right humbly, 'doth the parish allege many
things against me, or this one only?' 'In sooth, but this one,' said the
bishop, and softened a little. 'First, monseigneur, I acknowledge the
fact.' ''Tis well,' quoth the bishop; 'that saves time and trouble. Now
to your excuse, if excuse there be.' 'Monseigneur, I have been cure of
that parish seven years, and fifty children have I baptized, and buried
not five. At first I used to say, "Heaven be praised, the air of this
village is main healthy;" but on searching the register book I found
'twas always so, and on probing the matter, it came out that of those
born at Domfront, all, but here and there one, did go and get hanged at
Aix. But this was to defraud not their cure only, but the entire Church
of her dues, since "pendards" pay no funeral fees, being buried in air.
Thereupon, knowing by sad experience their greed, and how they grudge
the Church every sou, I laid a trap to keep them from hanging; for,
greed against greed, there be of them that will die in their beds like
true men ere the Church shall gain those funeral fees for nought.'
Then the bishop laughed till the tears ran down, and questioned the
churchwarden, and he was fain to confess that too many of the parish did
come to that unlucky end at Aix. 'Then,' said the bishop, 'I do approve
the act, for myself and my successors; and so be it ever, till they
mend their manners and die in their beds.' And the next day came the
ringleaders crestfallen to the cure, and said, 'Parson, ye were even
good to us, barring this untoward matter: prithee let there be no ill
blood anent