lesson against
pride. But they tell me I left St Barnabas' a jewel--justabout a jewel!
Wel-a-well! 'Twas done for and among my own people, and--Father Roger
was right--I never knew such trouble or such triumph since. That's the
nature o' things. A dear--dear land.' He dropped his chin on his chest.

'There's your Father at the Forge. What's he talking to old Hobden
about?' said Puck, opening his hand with three leaves in it.

Dan looked towards the cottage.

'Oh, I know. It's that old oak lying across the brook. Pater always
wants it grubbed.'

In the still valley they could hear old Hobden's deep tones.

'Have it _as_ you've a mind to,' he was saying. 'But the vivers of her
roots they hold the bank together. If you grub her out, the bank she'll
all come tearin' down, an' next floods the brook'll swarve up. But have
it as you've a mind. The Mistuss she sets a heap by the ferns on her
trunk.

'Oh! I'll think it over,' said the Pater.

Una laughed a little bubbling chuckle.

'What Devil's in _that_ belfry?' said Hal, with a lazy laugh. 'That
should be a Hobden by his voice.'

'Why, the oak is the regular bridge for all the rabbits between the
Three Acre and our meadow. The best place for wires on the farm, Hobden
says. He's got two there now,' Una answered. '_He_ won't ever let it be
grubbed!'

'Ah, Sussex! Sillly Sussex for everlastin',' murmured Hal; and the next
moment their Father's voice calling across to Little Lindens broke the
spell as little St Barnabas' clock struck five.

A SMUGGLERS' SONG

If You wake at midnight, and hear a horse's feet,
Don't go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street,
Them that asks no questions isn't told a lie.
Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!
Five-and-twenty ponies,
Trotting through the dark--
Brandy for the Parson,
'Baccy for the Clerk;
Laces for a lady; letters for a spy,
And watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!

Running round the woodlump if you chance to find
Little barrels, roped and tarred, all full of brandy-wine;
Don't you shout to come and look, nor take 'em for your play;
Put the brishwood back again,--and they'll be gone next day!

If you see the stable-door setting open wide;
If you see a tired horse lying down inside;
If your mother mends a coat cut about and tore;
If the lining's wet and warm--don't you ask no more!

If you meet King George's men, dressed in blue and red,