a solemn drone, and
their father added his reminiscences. He never failed them. Since the
beginning of the century he had not missed a funeral, and his children
felt that he was a great example. Sire and sons returned from the
cemetery invigorated for their dally labours. If one of them happened
to start a dozen yards behind the others, he never thought of making up
the distance. If his foot struck against a stone, he came to a
dead-stop; when he discovered that he had stopped, he set off again.

A high wall shut off this old family's house and garden from the
clatter of Thrums, a wall that gave Snecky some trouble before he went
to live within it. I speak from personal knowledge. One spring
morning, before the schoolhouse was built, I was assisting the
patriarch to divest the gaunt garden pump of its winter suit of straw.
I was taking a drink, I remember, my palm over the mouth of the wooden
spout and my mouth at the gimlet hole above, when a leg appeared above
the corner of the wall against which the henhouse was built. Two hands
followed, clutching desperately at the uneven stones. Then the leg
worked as if it were turning a grind-stone, and next moment Snecky was
sitting breathlessly on the dyke. From this to the henhouse, whose
roof was of "divets," the descent was comparatively easy, and a
slanting board allowed the daring bellman to slide thence to the
ground. He had come on business, and having talked it over slowly with
the old man he turned to depart. Though he was a genteel man, I heard
him sigh heavily as, with the remark, "Ay, weel, I'll be movin' again,"
he began to rescale the wall. The patriarch, twisted round the pump,
made no reply, so I ventured to suggest to the bellman that he might
find the gate easier. "Is there a gate?" said Snecky, in surprise at
the resources of civilization. I pointed it out to him, and he went
his way chuckling. The old man told me that he had sometimes wondered
at Snecky's mode of approach, but it had not struck him to say
anything. Afterwards, when the bellman took up his abode there, they
discussed the matter heavily.

Hobart inherited both his bell and his nickname from his father, who
was not a native of Thrums. He came from some distant part where the
people speak of snecking the door, meaning shut it. In Thrums the word
used is steek, and sneck seemed to the inhabitants so droll and
ridiculous that Hobart got the name of Snecky. His son left Thrums