churches. The room was full of sunshine, and you could see the
blue sky through the windows, but nothing else, because they were
so high up. It was so bright we began to think the pig-man had
been kidding us. Under one of the windows was a door. We went
through, and there was a little passage and then a turret-twisting
stair, like in the church, but quite light with windows. When we
had gone some way up this, we came to a sort of landing, and there
was a block of stone let into the wall--polished--Denny said it was
Aberdeen graphite, with gold letters cut in it. It said--

'Here lies the body of Mr Richard Ravenal
Born 1720. Died 1779.'

and a verse of poetry:

'Here lie I, between earth and sky,
Think upon me, dear passers -by,
And you who do my tombstone see
Be kind to say a prayer for me.'

'How horrid!' Alice said. 'Do let's get home.'

'We may as well go to the top,' Dicky said, 'just to say we've
been.'

And Alice is no funk--so she agreed; though I could see she did not
like it.

Up at the top it was like the top of the church tower, only
octogenarian in shape, instead of square.