course, that told them
nothing, being empty, as usual at the time of year, with only a few
shavings stuck about it by way of ornament. Martha, the first to
pick up her wits, dashed out into the front hall.

"Gone without his hat, too!" she fairly screamed, running her eye
along the row of pegs.

Mrs. Polwhele clasped her hands. "In the midst of life we are in
death," said Arch'laus Spry: "that's my opinion if you ask it."

"Gone! Gone without his hat, like the snuff of a candle!" Mrs.
Polwhele dropped into a chair and rocked herself and moaned.

My grandfather banged his fist on the table. He never could abide
the sight of a woman in trouble.

"Missus," says he, "if the Parson's anywhere alive, we'll find 'en:
and if that Frenchman be Old Nick himself, he shall rue the day he
ever set foot in Manaccan parish! Come'st along, Arch'laus--"

He took Spry by the arm and marched him out and down the garden path.
There, by the gate, what should his eyes light upon but his own
stolen tools! But by this time all power of astonishment was dried
up within him. He just raised his eyes aloft, as much as to say,
"Let the sky open and rain miracles!" and then and there he saw,
coming down the road, the funeral that both he and the Parson had
clean forgotten.

The corpse was an old man called 'Pollas Hockaday; and Sam Trewhella,
a fish-curer that had married Hockaday's eldest daughter, walked next
behind the coffin as chief mourner. My grandfather waited by the
gate for the procession to come by, and with that Trewhella caught
sight of him, and, says he, taking down the handkerchief from his
nose:

"Well, you're a pretty fellow, I must say! What in thunder d'ee mean
by not tolling the minute-bell?"

"Tak 'en back," answers my grandfather, pointing to the coffin.
"Take 'en back, 'co!"

"Eh?" says Trewhella. "Answer my question, I tell 'ee. You've hurt
my feelings and the feelings of everyone connected with the deceased:
and if this weren't not-azackly the place for it, I'd up and give you
a dashed good hiding," says he.

"Aw, take 'en back," my grandfather goes on. "Take 'en back, my
dears, and put 'en somewhere, cool and temporary! The grave's not
digged, and the Parson's kidnapped, and the French be upon us, and
down by the river ther's a furrin spy taking soundings at this
moment! In the name of King George," said he, remembering that he
was constable, "I command you all except the females to come along