HAPPY VILLAGE n 



white hair that touched his collar, so that the right-hand 

 hank was permanently swarth, subdued to that he worked 

 in, by the daily dyeing. If at times the load of ink was 

 greater than he thought the nature of the wiper would 

 carry, he used the inner lining of his coat, which thus 

 over a small rectangle under the left flap, and there only 

 maintained its original blackness. Four times in the 

 week was he perfectly happy, when, standing up before 

 the little congregation, he read the first and second lesson 

 twice a Sunday, The advance of years intensified the 

 sonorous severity of his utterance. It is agreeable with 

 his manner and character that I can only remember the 

 exact quality of his voice in association with the lessons 

 there are two in which ** thorns and briers &quot; are the 

 theme. Denunciation was his delight ; and no power 

 but his own voice could pass on the impression of 

 prophetic wrath conveyed to his audience by his broad 

 ening of the vowels in &quot; briers &quot;: it became a tremen 

 dous word in his mouth, a flaming sword, a scourge of 

 scorpions. The epitome of an age of history was in his 

 tall, ample figure reading the Old Testament to the small 

 rustic congregation in a church that still speaks after 

 seven hundred years the genius of worship in the lofty 

 roof, the masterful tower and the aspiring arches. From all 

 the slopes of the surrounding fields you see it &quot; bosomed 

 high in tufted trees &quot; circling elms that appeal to the 

 infinite as strongly as the Gothic arches within. So 

 stands the church in the midst of a little population of 

 1 80 people all told, and they ebb slowly away in numbers 

 and, perhaps, in seal. 



The last time I saw the old man at any rate, this is 

 the last impression of him left he was walking away 

 from me, one hand resting across the small of his back, 

 down the lane, where he took his constitutional with 



