cloaks, or lively shawls, Sunday waistcoats, and hats
stuck full of wildflowers--which last Mr. Stirn often stoutly maintained
to be Mrs. Hazeldean's newest geraniums. Now, on this Sunday especially,
there was an imperative call upon an extra exertion of vigilance on the
part of the superintendent--he had not only to detect ordinary
depredators and trespassers; but, first, to discover the authors of the
conspiracy against the stocks; and secondly, to "make an example."

He had begun his rounds, therefore, from early in the morning; and just
as the afternoon bell was sounding its final peal, he emerged upon the
village green from a hedgerow, behind which he had been at watch to
observe who had the most suspiciously gathered round the stocks. At that
moment the palace was deserted. At a distance, the superintendent saw
the fast disappearing forms of some belated groups hastening towards the
church; in front, the stocks stood staring at him mournfully from its
four great eyes, which had been cleansed from the mud, but still looked
bleared and stained with the marks of the recent outrage. Here Mr. Stirn
paused, took off his hat, and wiped his brows.

"If I had sum un, to watch here," thought he, "while I takes a turn by
the water-side, praps summat might come out; praps them as did it ben't
gone to church, but will come sneaking round to look on their willainy!
as they says murderers are alway led back to the place where they ha'
left the body. But in this here willage there ben't a man, woman, nor
child, as has any consarn for Squire or Parish, barring myself." It was
just as he arrived at that misanthropical conclusion that Mr. Stirn
beheld Leonard Fairfield walking very fast from his own home. The
superintendent clapped on his hat, and stuck his right arm akimbo.
"Hollo, you sir," said he, as Lenny now came in hearing, "where be you
going at that rate?"

"Please, sir, I be going to church."

"Stop, sir--stop, Master Lenny. Going to church!--why, the bell's done;
and you knows the Parson is very angry at them as comes in late,
disturbing the congregation. You can't go to church now!"

"Please, sir"--

"I says you can't go to church now. You must learn to think a little of
others, lad. You sees how I sweats to serve the Squire! and you must
serve him too. Why, your mother's got the house and premishes almost
rent-free: you ought to have a grateful heart, Leonard Fairfield, and
feel for his honor! Poor man! _his_ hear