sorry! Farmer Jocelyn was not a Churchman--no!--a regrettable
circumstance!--still, I'm sorry! He was a useful person in the
parish--quite honest, I believe, and a very fair and good master--"

"None better!" chorussed his listeners.

"True! None better. Well, well! I'll just go up to the house and
see if I can be of any service, or--or comfort---"

One of the men smiled darkly.

"Sartin sure Farmer Jocelyn's as dead as door-nails. If so be you
are a-goin' to Briar Farm, Mr. Medwin!" he said--"Why, you never
set foot in the place while 'e was a livin' man!"

"Quite correct!" and Mr. Medwin nodded pleasantly--"I make it a
rule never to go where I'm not wanted." He paused, impressively,--
conscious that he had "scored." "But now that trouble has visited
the house I consider it my duty to approach the fatherless and the
afflicted. Good-day!"

He walked off then, treading ponderously and wearing a composed
and serious demeanour. The men who had spoken with him were
quickly joined by two or three others.

"Parson goin' to the Farm?" they enquired.

"Ay!"

"We'll 'ave gooseberries growin' on hayricks next!" declared a