'll see the parson or the sexton
or somebody," sez I, "an' I'll tell 'em I've got a darter in London
as is goin' to die, a Carnarvon gal by family, an' I'll tell 'im she
ain't never bin married, an' then they'll bury 'er where she can
smell the primroses and the vi'lets." That's what I sez to Poll
Onion, an' then Poll she begins to pipe, an' sez, "Oh Meg, Meg, ain't
I a Carnarvon gal too? The likes o' us ain't a-goin' to grow no
vi'lets an' snowdrops in Llanbeblig churchyard." An' I sez to her,
"What a d--d fool you are, Poll! You never 'adn't a gal as went wrong
through you a-drinkin', else you'd never say that. If the parson sez
to me, 'Is your darter a vargin-maid?' d'ye think I shall say, 'Oh
no, parson'? I'll swear she is a vargin-maid on all the Bibles in all
the churches in Wales." That's jis' what I sez to Polly Onion, God
forgi'e me. An' Poll sez, "The parson'll be sure to send you to hell,
Meg, if you do that air." An' I sez, "So he may, then, but I _shall_
do it, no fear." That's what I sez to Poll Onion (she's downstairs at
this werry moment a-warmin' me a drop o' beer); it was 'er as showed
you upstairs, cuss 'er for a fool; an' she can tell you the same
thing as I'm a-tellin' on you.'

'But what about her you kidnapped? Tell me all about it, or it will
be worse for you.'

'Ain't I a-tellin' you as fast as I can? Off to Carnarvon I goes, an'
every futt o' the way I walks--Lor' bless your soul, there worn't a
better pair o' pins nowheres than Meg Gudgeon's then, afore the water
got in 'em an' bust 'em; an' I got to Llanbeblig churchyard early one
mornin', and there I seed the pore half-sharp gal. So you see I comed
by 'er 'onest enough, p'leaceman, though she worn't ezzackly my own
darter.'

'Well, well,' I said; 'go on.'

'Yes, it's all very well to say "go on," p'leaceman; but if you'd got
as much water in your legs as I've got in mine, an' if you'd got no
more wind in your bellows than I've got in mine, you'd find it none
so easy to go on.'

'What was she doing in the churchyard?'

'Well, p'leaceman, I'm tellin' you the truth, s'elp me Bob! I was
a-lookin' over the graves to see if I could find a nice comfortable
place for my pore gal, an' all at once I heered a kind o' sobbin' as
would a' made me die o' fright if it 'adn't a' bin broad daylight,
an' then I see a gal a-layin' flat on a grave an' cryin', an' when I
got up to her I seed as she wur covered with mud, an' I seed as she
wur a-starvin'