than is seen in Nature. Inside these illuminated holes, at a distance of
about three inches, were ranged at this hour, as every passer knew, the
ruddy polls of Billy Wills the glazier, Smart the shoemaker, Buzzford
the general dealer, and others of a secondary set of worthies, of a
grade somewhat below that of the diners at the King's Arms, each with
his yard of clay.

A four-centred Tudor arch was over the entrance, and over the arch
the signboard, now visible in the rays of an opposite lamp. Hereon
the Mariners, who had been represented by the artist as persons of two
dimensions only--in other words, flat as a shadow--were standing in a
row in paralyzed attitudes. Being on the sunny side of the street the
three comrades had suffered largely from warping, splitting, fading, and
shrinkage, so that they were but a half-invisible film upon the reality
of the grain, and knots, and nails, which composed the signboard. As a
matter of fact, this state of things was not so much owing to Stannidge
the landlord's neglect, as from the lack of a painter in Casterbridge
who would undertake to reproduce the features of men so traditional.

A long, narrow, dimly-lit passage gave access to the inn, within which
passage the horses going to their stalls at the back, and the coming and
departing human guests, rubbed shoulders indiscriminately, the latter
running no slight risk of having their toes trodden upon by the animals.
The good stabling and the good ale of the Mariners, though somewhat
difficult to reach on account of there being but this narrow way to
both, were nevertheless perseveringly sought out by the sagacious old
heads who knew what was what in Casterbridge.

Henchard stood without the inn for a few instants; then lowering the
dignity of his presence as much as possible by buttoning the brown