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Prince's ears were long enough, worthy sir, to hear a peal six miles off. No, no; no one sets foot in the belfry till Sunday, and 'tis only Thursday morning yet."

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"But Mrs. Beccles, Mr. Gibson wants "Want is like to be his master, sir, so far as John Dibble's key is concerned. I know my duty,

sir."

"Not a doubt of it, Mrs. Beccles. But if you are unwilling to trust me with the key, (and I honour you for your scrupulousness) I presume you will have no objection to using it yourself. You will, I dare say, be good enough to regulate

the clock for us."

"O, honoured sir," answered Becky, with a gracious smile which made her look more eccentric than ever, "that's quite a different thing. A new aspect of affairs comes upon the carpet, as the poor dear Duchess of Droitwich was wont to say. I am too reasonable myself not to be prepared at all times to listen to reason. My worthy Rector Mr. Gibson wishes me to regulate the clock; a natural wish, perhaps, on his part, but the conclusive argument in favour of it has not yet reached me. Why should the clock be regulated ?"

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Because, my good madam, it is half an hour

too fast."

"But consider, honoured sir, to make such a change as that will throw the whole parish out of their reckonings. Suppose I put the clock back,say ten minutes to-day, and ten minutes on Monday."

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Why should the clock tell lies, Mrs. Beccles ? A clock's business is to tell the true time. No, no, never make two bites of a cherry! Better correct the error at once."

"Folks won't be pleased, sir; I know they won't."

"O, Mrs. Beccles, you know that I belong to a profession which above all others should be indifferent to such a motive as the fear of man. Say, that there is a little grumbling, at any rate people will see that I have some decision of character, and that, so as I do my duty, I am indifferent to consequences."

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Well, sir," said Mrs. Beccles, with a soundness of judgment that would have done credit to a saner person, "I shouldn't like, if I were you, to go out of my way to give offence at first starting. We don't know you yet, sir, and will it be well to create a prejudice against you ?"

"I am not afraid of the results, Mrs. Beccles." "And it is not my business to bandy words with you," was the reply. And thereupon Mrs. Beccles fetched the key, proceeded towards the Church accompanied by Mr. Smith, who was determined to see with his own eyes that the proper change was made.

He waited till he was satisfied, and then proceeded homewards.

Becky Beccles watched him from a narrow slit in the turret which she was descending, and then with a chuckle ejaculated, "Well, my brave gentleman, I'm very much mistaken if you haven't gone and put your foot in it, as the saying is. But that's your affair, not mine. Wilful folks must have their own way!"

CHAPTER VI.

THE PARSON IN CIRCUIT.

"For look you, you know not which way you shall go." Cymbeline.

WHEN the Reverend John Smith turned his back on the churchyard, which, however, he did not do till he had made an examination of the sacred edifice and its precincts, including a rapid survey of the names in the Prayer Books on the seats, and the inscriptions on the headstones; till he had counted sixteen cobwebs in the roof, and taken a note of seven cracked quarries in the windows of the north aisle; till he had satisfied himself that on the previous Sunday some schoolchild had cracked and eaten at least half-a-dozen nuts; till he had determined on discovering James Liptrot, and expostulating with him on the impropriety of having drawn a gallows with a sufferer dependent therefrom, and a superscription "This is Jack Webster," on the fly-leaf of his hymn-book; till he had ascertained that the parish surplice was by no means free ironmould, and that a dirty duster had been left under the clerk's seat; not till Mr. Smith had made himself acquainted with these several details, had built up his inferences therefrom as to the state of the parish, social, ecclesiastical, and religious, and had determined on the course which he should pursue for the reformation of evil and development of good (a labour which occupied that worthy man a full quarter of an hour); not till then did Mr. Smith set out on the voyage of discovery to which he had long since determined to devote his first day at Cumberworth.

Mr. Smith did not much like the notion of look

ing at his new flock through Mr. Gibson's spectacles. He wished to make his own observations and judge for himself. And he was quite right. Grant, that he would have a little dust thrown in his eyes, and be imposed upon here and there with one of those one-sided statements which are by no means peculiar to cottages, still he would have the great advantage of starting without a prejudice in favour of or against any one of his flock. Better to find out for himself that Molly Medley was a sad gossip, and that Joe Philpott spent most of his time at the public-house. The discovery, whenever it dawned upon him, would give a freshness and cogency to his reproofs, which would scarcely be found if their characters came to him second-hand.

So without putting himself in opposition to good Mr. Gibson, or making a methodical progress from house to house, Mr. Smith set forth to look about him.

Most people would have made some little previous inquiry as to the direction of the roads, and the position of the various parts of the parish. Not so Mr. Smith. He set out with the conviction that it would be rather an advantage than otherwise to lose his way roads and paths, gates and stiles, would be all the more vividly impressed on his memory, and the necessity of making his way out of a difficulty by inquiry would, at once, bring him in contact, and make him personally acquainted with, at least some of his parishioners.

It is true that there were some inconveniences connected with this independent course of proceeding which had not suggested themselves, and with which, before the day was over, he had become acquainted but even thus, he was buying his experience, and the sooner experience is bought the better.

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The parish of Cumberworth is agricultural, consisting chiefly of a few clusters of cottages, dotted

about here and there, some large dairy farms, and the Squire's residence, Cumberworth Court, at present occupied by Sir Tukesbury Twigge, a wealthy gentleman who had been raised to the honours of a baronetcy as a reward for having acquired a large fortune by the sale of ready-made clothing.

But of this Mr. Smith, as yet, knew little, though as the day advanced, he grew more enlightened as to the topography of Cumberworth. Its population was obviously in the harvest-fields, and therefore he made no explorations among the cottages, where closed doors, and a linen blind or curtain drawn across the windows, gave evidence universally of the absence of their tenants. At first Mr. Smith confined his investigations to the roads and lanes, which seemed to be wonderfully alike, intersecting each other continually, and to be bounded on either side by high hedges, which cut off all view of the bearings of the surrounding country so successfully, that our hero contrived to indulge in a circuit of six or eight miles, without being at any time half a mile distant from the point from which he had started. And it was high noon before he had satisfied himself that instead of making progress, he had been going round and round, like a squirrel in a cage, through a labyrinth of entangled lanes, and that he knew no more of the character of the country than he did at first starting.

So, rather bewildered, he got out of the lanes by following a team into a field of barley, from which field, however, there was no outlet, and from whence, having been previously well stared at by the gleaners (who, having made bold to ask him what o'clock it was, proceeded, not altogether inaudibly, to criticize his appearance, and to wonder who he was, and what brought him there), he in course of time retreated.

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