still kept up, though in the county town of Riversford, only seven
miles away, they were forgotten, or if remembered at all, were only
used as an excuse for drinking and vulgar horse-play.

"You and Kitty Spruce went up on spec? Very enterprising of you
both, I am sure! And did you make anything out of it?"

"No, sir,--there ain't no ladies there, 'cept Miss Tabitha,--onny
some London gents,--and Sir Morton, 'e flew into an orful passion--
like 'e do, sir,--an' told us to leave off singin' and git out,--
'Git off my ground,' he 'ollers--'Git off!'--then jest as we was a
gittin' off, he cools down suddint like, an' 'e sez, sez 'e: 'Take a
note to the dam passon for me, an' bring a harnser, an' I'll give
yer somethink when yer gits back.' An' all the gents was a-sittin'
at breakfast, with the winders wide open an' the smell of 'am an'
eggs comin' through strong, an' they larfed fit to split
theirselves, an' one on 'em tried to kiss Kitty Spruce, an' she
spanked his face for 'im!"

The narration of this remarkable incident, spoken with breathless
rapidity in a burst of confidence, seemed to cause the relief
supposed to be obtained by a penitent in the confessional, and to
lift a weight off Bob Keeley's mind. The smile deepened on the
'Passon's' face, and for a moment he had some difficulty to control
an outbreak of laughter, but recollecting the possibly demoralising
effect it might have on the more youthful members of the community,
if he, the spiritual director of the parish, were reported to have
laughed at the pugnacious conduct of the valiant Kitty Spruce, he
controlled himself, and assumed a tolerantly serious air.