Mr. Penny, being in the act of drawing the last stitch tight, could
afford time to look up and throw in a word at this point.

"He's no spouter--that must be said, 'a b'lieve."

"'Tis a terrible muddle sometimes with the man, as far as spout do go,"
said Spinks.

"Well, we'll say nothing about that," the tranter answered; "for I don't
believe 'twill make a penneth o' difference to we poor martels here or
hereafter whether his sermons be good or bad, my sonnies."

Mr. Penny made another hole with his awl, pushed in the thread, and
looked up and spoke again at the extension of arms.

"'Tis his goings-on, souls, that's what it is." He clenched his features
for an Herculean addition to the ordinary pull, and continued, "The first
thing he done when he came here was to be hot and strong about church
business."

"True," said Spinks; "that was the very first thing he done."

Mr. Penny, having now been offered the ear of the assembly, accepted it,
ceased stitching, swallowed an unimportant quantity of air as if it were
a pill, and continued:

"The next thing he do do is to think about altering the church, until he
found 'twould be a matter o' cost and what not, and then not to think no
more about it."