that I should be going. Polly was up early, and had dressed little John
in his best.

'You'll see him at church, sir,' she said, as she laid my breakfast; 'he
always likes to go to church, and he's as good as gold, bless him!'

Duncan was out before I was up, and I had seen him, as I was dressing,
going round to the fishermen sitting as usual on the seats on the cliff,
with a bundle of pink papers in his hand, similar to the one which had
been given me, and distributing them to every group of his mates which
he came across. Yes, I felt that I was expected to go, and it would be
hard work to keep away. But if I had still had any doubt about the
matter, it would have surely disappeared when at half-past ten exactly a
tiny couple came toiling hand in hand up the steps leading to Duncan's
door, and announced to Polly that they had come to call for big Mr. Jack
to go to church.

It was Marjorie and her little brother, and the small Jack put his
little fat hand into that of big Jack, and led him triumphantly away.

It was a pretty sight to see that congregation gathering on the village
green. From the fishermen's cottages there came a stream of people down
to the shore,--mothers with babies in their arms and leading young
children by the hand, groups of boys and girls wearing shoes and
stockings who had been barefooted all the week, many a weather-beaten
sailor, many a sunburnt fisher lad, many elderly people too, old men,
and white-haired women in closely-plaited white caps. There were
visitors, too, coming down from the rocks, and these mostly kept in the
background, and had at first an air of watching the movement rather than
joining in it. My York friends were, however, well to the front, and the