'Would I not?' cried Louis. 'Oh! if the analogous class here in
England could but feel that the church was for them!--not driven out
and thrust aside, by our respectability.'

'Marksedge to wit!' said a good-humoured voice, as Mr. Holdsworth,
the young Vicar, appeared at his own wicket, with a hearty greeting.
'I never hear those words without knowing where you are,
Fitzjocelyn.'

'I hope to be there literally some day this week,' said Louis. 'Will
you walk with me? I want to ask old Madison how his grandson goes
on. I missed going to see after the boy last time I was at home.'

'I fear he has not been going on well, and have been sorry for it
ever since,' said the Vicar. 'His master told me that he found him
very idle and saucy.'

'People of that sort never know how to speak to a lad,' said Louis.
'It is their own rating that they ought to blame.'

'Not Tom Madison, I know,' said Mr. Holdsworth, laughing. 'But I did
not come out to combat that point, but to inquire after the
commissions you kindly undertook.'

'I have brought you such a set of prizes! Red rubrics, red margins;
and for the apparatus, I have brought a globe with all the mountains
in high relief;--yes, and an admirable physical atlas, and a box of
instruments and models for applying mathematics to mechanics. We
might give evening lectures, and interest the young farmers.'