that you should have showed your nose then of all days
in the month."

"I suppose the moon was terrible full when you were born?" said
Christian, with a look of hopeless admiration at Fairway.

"Well, 'a was not new," Mr. Fairway replied, with a disinterested gaze.

"I'd sooner go without drink at Lammas-tide than be a man of no moon,"
continued Christian, in the same shattered recitative. "'Tis said I be
only the rames of a man, and no good for my race at all; and I suppose
that's the cause o't."

"Ay," said Grandfer Cantle, somewhat subdued in spirit; "and yet his
mother cried for scores of hours when 'a was a boy, for fear he should
outgrow hisself and go for a soldier."

"Well, there's many just as bad as he." said Fairway.

"Wethers must live their time as well as other sheep, poor soul."

"So perhaps I shall rub on? Ought I to be afeared o' nights, Master
Fairway?"

"You'll have to lie alone all your life; and 'tis not to married couples
but to single sleepers that a ghost shows himself when 'a do come. One
has been seen lately, too. A very strange one."

"No--don't talk about it if 'tis agreeable of ye not to! 'Twill make my
skin crawl when I think of it in bed alone. But you will--ah, you will,
I know, Timothy; and I shall dream all night o't! A very strange one?
What sort of a spirit did ye mean when ye said, a very strange one,
Timothy?--no, no--don't tell me."

"I don't half believe in spirits myself. But I think it ghostly
enough--what I was told. 'Twas a little boy that zid it."

"What was it like?--no, don't--"

"A red one. Yes, most ghosts be white; but this is as if it had been
dipped in blood."

Christian drew a deep breath without letting it expand his body, and
Humphrey said, "Where has it been seen?"

"Not exactly here; but in this same heth. But 'tisn't a thing to talk
about. What do ye say," continued Fairway in brisker tones, and turning
upon them as if the idea had not been Grandfer Cantle's--"what do you
say to giving the new man and wife a bit of a song tonight afore we go
to bed--being their wedding-day? When folks are just married 'tis as
well to look glad o't, since looking sorry won't unjoin 'em. I am no
drinker, as we know, but when the womenfolk and youngsters have gone
home we can drop down across to the Quiet Woman, and strike up a ballet
in front of the married folks' door. 'Twill please the young wife, and
that's what I should like to do, for many's the skinful I've h