Village Heathen 195 



horse) ' is as hard up as I am. I s'pose he'll be for the 

 knackers now.' ' Would you not like to be strong 

 and young again, like you were when you fought " The 

 Pilgrim " at the Blue Bell ? ' 'Aye, aye,' returned he,, 

 while a pleasant gleam came in his face. ' I gave 

 you a fine job to cure him. That wasn't the only 

 time when I made broken bones for you to set. But 

 it was a cursed hard winter,' he went on, ' and many's 

 the hungry belly I had. No, no, I don't want my 

 time back again.' Then he quietly laid his pipe or* 

 its old stone by the fire, and muttering, ' The cartin' 

 trade's fair done. I think I'll have a bit sleep,' dropped 

 off into a doze from which he never awoke. It was 

 thus the pagans of village, and farm, and homestead 

 lived, thus they died ; but even those who derived 

 amusement from the ways of them will hardly regret 

 that the spread of education and other civilising influ- 

 ences are gradually removing them from the country. 

 Pagans of a new kind will doubtless succeed them,, 

 but they cannot be quite as heathenish as the old. 



WINTER SCENERY 



ONE most majestic expression of English landscape 

 is visible only in the depths of a winter fog. When 

 snowy fields, and grey hillside, and black river are 

 shrouded in darkness : when from your midday 



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