of his aspect, and the smile which forbade any one to regard him as an
aggressor. He went steadily on until he came opposite to the Talbot Inn.
At that moment a stillness fell upon the crowd; every voice was hushed;
every head was craned towards the open windows of the inn's assembly
room.

Gazing with the rest, the stranger saw a long table glittering under the
soft radiance of many candles and surrounded by a numerous company--fat
and thin, old and young, red-faced and pale, gentle and simple. At the
end farthest from the street one figure stood erect--a short, round,
rubicund little man, wearing a gown of rusty black, one thumb stuck into
his vest, and a rosy benignity in the glance with which he scanned the
table. He threw back his head, cleared his tight throat sonorously, and
began, in tones perhaps best described as treacly, to address the seated
company, with an intention also towards the larger audience without.

"Now, neebors all, we be trim and cozy in our insides, and 'tis time fur
me to say summat. I be proud, that I be, as it falls to me, bein' bailiff
o' this town, to axe ya all to drink the good health of our honored
townsman an guest. I ha' lived hereabout, boy an' man, fur a matter o'
fifty year, an' if so be I lived fifty more I couldna be a prouder man
than I bin this night. Boy an' man, says I? Ay, I knowed our guest when
he were no more'n table high. Well I mind him, that I do, comin' by this
very street to school; ay, an' he minds me too, I warrant.

"I see him now, I do, skippin' along street fresh an' nimblelike, his
eyne chock full o' mischief lookin' round fur to see some poor soul to
play a prank on. It do feel strange-like to have him a-sittin' by my
elbow today. Many's the tale I could tell o' his doin' an' our sufferin'.
Why, I mind a poor lump of a 'prentice as I wunst had, a loon as never