ell come by, why,
you might ha' made up for it by coming to church reg'lar; for, as for
the children as the Wise Woman charmed, I've been at the christening of
'em again and again, and they took the water just as well. And that's
reasonable; for if Old Harry's a mind to do a bit o' kindness for a
holiday, like, who's got anything against it? That's my thinking; and
I've been clerk o' this parish forty year, and I know, when the parson
and me does the cussing of a Ash Wednesday, there's no cussing o' folks
as have a mind to be cured without a doctor, let Kimble say what he
will. And so, Master Marner, as I was saying--for there's windings i'
things as they may carry you to the fur end o' the prayer-book afore
you get back to 'em--my advice is, as you keep up your sperrits; for as
for thinking you're a deep un, and ha' got more inside you nor 'ull
bear daylight, I'm not o' that opinion at all, and so I tell the
neighbours. For, says I, you talk o' Master Marner making out a
tale--why, it's nonsense, that is: it 'ud take a 'cute man to make a
tale like that; and, says I, he looked as scared as a rabbit."

During this discursive address Silas had continued motionless in his
previous attitude, leaning his elbows on his knees, and pressing his
hands against his head. Mr. Macey, not doubting that he had been
listened to, paused, in the expectation of some appreciatory reply, but
Marner remained silent. He had a sense that the old man meant to be
good-natured and neighbourly; but the kindness fell on him as sunshine
falls on the wretched--he had no heart to taste it, and felt that it
was very far off him.

"Come, Master Marner, have you got nothing to say to that?" said Mr.
Macey at last, with a slight accent of impatience.

"Oh," said Marner, slowly, shaking his head between his hands, "I thank
you--thank you--kindly."

"Aye, aye, to be sure: I thought you would," said Mr. Macey; "and my
advice is--have you got a Sunday suit?"

"No," said Marner.

"I doubted it was so," said Mr. Macey. "Now, let me advise you to get
a Sunday suit: there's Tookey, he's a poor creatur, but he's got my
tailoring business, and some o' my money in it, and he shall make a
suit at a low price, and give you trust, and then you can come to
church, and be a bit neighbourly. Why, you've never heared me say
"Amen" since you come into these parts, and I recommend you to lose no
time, for it'll be poor work when Tookey has it all to himself,