and his stooping figure formed a well-
illuminated picture as he passed towards the fire-place. Being by trade
a mason, he wore a long linen apron reaching almost to his toes, corduroy
breeches and gaiters, which, together with his boots, graduated in tints
of whitish-brown by constant friction against lime and stone. He also
wore a very stiff fustian coat, having folds at the elbows and shoulders
as unvarying in their arrangement as those in a pair of bellows: the
ridges and the projecting parts of the coat collectively exhibiting a
shade different from that of the hollows, which were lined with small
ditch-like accumulations of stone and mortar-dust. The extremely large
side-pockets, sheltered beneath wide flaps, bulged out convexly whether
empty or full; and as he was often engaged to work at buildings far
away--his breakfasts and dinners being eaten in a strange chimney-corner,
by a garden wall, on a heap of stones, or walking along the road--he
carried in these pockets a small tin canister of butter, a small canister
of sugar, a small canister of tea, a paper of salt, and a paper of
pepper; the bread, cheese, and meat, forming the substance of his meals,
hanging up behind him in his basket among the hammers and chisels. If a
passer-by looked hard at him when he was drawing forth any of these, "My
buttery," he said, with a pinched smile.

"Better try over number seventy-eight before we start, I suppose?" said
William, pointing to a heap of old Christmas-carol books on a side table.

"Wi' all my heart," said the choir generally.

"Number seventy-eight was always a teaser--always. I can mind him ever
since I was growing up a hard boy-chap."

"But he's a good tune, and worth a mint o' practice," said Michael.

"He is; though I've been mad enough wi' that tune at times to seize en
and tear en all to linnit. Ay, he's a splendid carrel--there's no
denying that."

"The first line is well enough," said Mr. Spinks; "but when you come to
'O, thou man,' you make a mess o't."

"We'll have another go into en, and see what we can make of the martel.
Half-an-hour's hammering at en will conquer the toughness of en; I'll
warn it."

"'Od rabbit it all!" said Mr. Penny, interrupting with a flash of his
spectacles, and at the same time clawing at something in the depths of a
large side-pocket. "If so be I hadn't been as scatter-brained and
thirtingill as a chiel, I should have called at the schoolhouse wi' a
boot as I