told me; woe's me, he'll get
up yet."

"Nonsense, bebee! Look at his motions, he's drabbed, spite of dukkerin."

"Don't say so, child; he's sick, 'tis true, but don't laugh at dukkerin,
only folks do that that know no better. I, for one, will never laugh at
the dukkerin dook. Sick again; I wish he was gone."

"He'll soon be gone, bebee; let's leave him. He's as good as gone; look
there, he's dead."

"No, he's not, he'll get up--I feel it; can't we hasten him?"

"Hasten him! yes, to be sure; set the dog upon him. Here, juggal, look
in there, my dog."

The dog made its appearance at the door of the tent, and began to bark
and tear up the ground.

"At him, juggal, at him; he wished to poison, to drab you. Halloo!"

The dog barked violently, and seemed about to spring at my face, but
retreated.

"The dog won't fly at him, child; he flashed at the dog with his eye, and
scared him. He'll get up."

"Nonsense, bebee! you make me angry; how should he get up?"

"The dook tells me so, and, what's more, I had a dream. I thought I was
at York, standing amidst a crowd to see a man hung, and the crowd shouted
'There he comes!' and I looked, and, lo! it was the tinker; before I
could cry with joy I was whisked away, and I found myself in Ely's big
church, which was chock full of people to hear the dean preach, and all
eyes were turned to the big pulpit; and presently I heard them say,
'There he mounts!' and I looked up to the big pulpit, and, lo! the tinker
was in the pulpit, and he raised his arm and began to preach. Anon, I
found myself at York again, just as the drop fell, and I looked up, and I
saw, not the tinker, but my own self hanging in the air."

"You are going mad, bebee; if you want to hasten him, take your stick and
poke him in the eye."

"That will be of no use, child, the dukkerin tells me so; but I will try
what I can do. Halloo, tinker! you must introduce yourself into a quiet
family, and raise confusion--must you? You must steal its language, and,
what was never done before, write it down Christianly--must you? Take
that--and that;" and she stabbed violently with her stick towards the end
of the tent.

"That's right, bebee, you struck his face; now once more, and let it be
in the eye. Stay, what's that? get up, bebee."

"What's the matter, child?"

"Some one is coming, come away."

"Let me make sure of him, child; he'll be up yet." And thereupon Mrs.
Herne, rising, leaned forward in