he meant. He regarded his drowned
boys as still tossed about in the weary wet cold ocean, and would have
gladly laid them to rest in the warm dry churchyard.

He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye with the back of his hand,
and saying, "Well, I must be off to my gardening," left me with his
wife. I saw then that, humorist as the old man might be, his humour,
like that of all true humorists, lay close about the wells of weeping.

"The old man seems a little out of sorts," I said to his wife.

"Well, sir," she answered, with her usual gentleness, a gentleness
which obedient suffering had perfected, "this be the day he buried our
Nancy, this day two years; and to-day Agnes be come home from her work
poorly; and the two things together they've upset him a bit."

"I met Agnes coming this way. Where is she?"

"I believe she be in the churchyard, sir. I've been to the doctor about
her."

"I hope it's nothing serious."

"I hope not, sir; but you see--four on 'em, sir!"

"Well, she's in God's hands, you know."

"That she be, sir."

"I want to ask you about something, Mrs. Coombes."

"What be that, sir? If I can tell, I will, you may be sure, sir."

"I want to know what's the matter with Joe Harper, the blacksmith."

"They du say it be a consumption, sir."

"But what has he got on his mind?"

"He's got nothing on his mind, sir. He be as good a by as ever stepped,
I assure you, sir."

"But I am sure there is something or other on his mind. He's not so
happy as he should be. He's not the man, it seems to me, to be unhappy
because he's ill. A man like him would not be miserable because he was
going to die. It might make him look sad sometimes, but not gloomy as
he looks."

"Well, sir, I believe you be right, and perhaps I know summat. But it's
part guessing.--I believe my Agnes and Joe Harper are as fond upon one
another as any two in the county."

"Are they not going to be married then?"

"There be the pint, sir. I don't believe Joe ever said a word o' the
sort to Aggy. She never could ha' kep it from me, sir."

"Why do