beating his
wife, they told me; now he's thrifty and decent, and he and his wife
look comfortable together. If you can bring me any proof that he
interferes with his neighbours and creates any disturbance, I shall
think it my duty as a clergyman and a magistrate to interfere. But it
wouldn't become wise people like you and me to be making a fuss about
trifles, as if we thought the Church was in danger because Will Maskery
lets his tongue wag rather foolishly, or a young woman talks in a
serious way to a handful of people on the Green. We must 'live and let
live,' Joshua, in religion as well as in other things. You go on doing
your duty, as parish clerk and sexton, as well as you've always done
it, and making those capital thick boots for your neighbours, and things
won't go far wrong in Hayslope, depend upon it."

"Your Reverence is very good to say so; an' I'm sensable as, you not
livin' i' the parish, there's more upo' my shoulders."

"To be sure; and you must mind and not lower the Church in people's eyes
by seeming to be frightened about it for a little thing, Joshua. I shall
trust to your good sense, now to take no notice at all of what Will
Maskery says, either about you or me. You and your neighbours can go on
taking your pot of beer soberly, when you've done your day's work, like
good churchmen; and if Will Maskery doesn't like to join you, but to go
to a prayer-meeting at Treddleston instead, let him; that's no business
of yours, so long as he doesn't hinder you from doing what you like. And
as to people saying a few idle words about us, we must not mind that,
any more than the old church-steeple minds the rooks cawing about
it. Will Maskery comes to church every Sunday afternoon, and does his
wheelwright's business steadily in the weekdays, and as long as he does
that he must be let alone."

"Ah, sir, but when he comes to church, he sits an' shakes his head, an'
looks as sour an' as coxy when we're a-singin' as I should like to fetch
him a rap across the jowl--God forgi'e me--an' Mrs. Irwine, an' Your
Reverence too, for speakin' so afore you. An' he said as our Christmas
singin' was no better nor the cracklin' o' thorns under a pot."

"Well, he's got a bad ear for music, Joshua. When people have wooden
heads, you know, it can't be helped. He won't bring the other people in
Hayslope round to his opinion, while you go on singing as well as you
do."

"Yes, sir, but it turns a man's stomach t' hear the Scrip