the farmer's attention to the special
damage which he had suffered in his service, had contented
himself with bringing his old coat to be new sleeved.

Harry was a favorite with the constable on account of his
intelligence and independence, and because of his relations with
the farmers of Englebourn on the allotment question. Although by
his office the representative of law and order in the parish,
David was a man of the people, and sympathized with the peasantry
more than with the farmers. He had passed some years of his
apprenticeship at Reading, where he had picked up notions on
political and social questions much ahead of the Englebourn
worthies. When he returned to his native village, being a wise
man, he had kept his new lights in the background, and
consequently had succeeded in the object of his ambition, and had
been appointed constable. His reason for seeking the post was a
desire to prove that the old joke as to the manliness of tailors
had no application to his case, and this he had established to
the satisfaction of all the neighborhood by the resolute manner
in which, whenever called on, he performed his duties. And, now
that his character was made and his position secure, he was not
so careful of betraying his leanings, and had lost some custom
amongst the farmers in consequence of them.

The job on which he was employed naturally turned his thoughts to
Harry. He stitched away, now weighing in his mind whether he
should not go himself to Farmer Groves, and represent to him that
he ought to give Harry a new coat; now rejoicing over the fact
that the rector had decided to let Harry have another acre of the
allotment land, now speculating on the attachment of his favorite
to the gardener's daughter, and whether he could do any thing to
forward his suit. In the pursuit of which thoughts he had
forgotten all about his bees, when suddenly a great humming
arose, followed by a rush through the air like the passing of an
express train, which recalled him to himself. He jumped from the
table, casting aside the coat, and seizing the key and shovel,
hurried out into the garden, beating the two together with all
his might.

The process in question, known in country phrase as "tanging", is
founded upon the belief that the bees will not settle unless
under the influence of this peculiar music; and the constable,
holding faithfully to the popular belief, rushed down his garden,
"tanging" as though his life depende