', Twitt! I'm goin' to marry Miss Mary Deane! Wish us joy!'
Twitt, 'e up an' sez, 'There's your suthin', old gel! A marriage!' an' I
sez, 'Not at all, Twitt--not at all, Mister Reay, if I may make so bold,
but slippin' on peel don't mean marriage, nor yet clinkers, though two
spoons in a saucer does convey 'ints o' the same, an' two spoons was in
Twitt's saucer only this very mornin'. Which I wishes both man an' woman
as runs the risk everlastin' joy!' An' Twitt, as is allus puttin' in 'is
word where 'taint wanted, sez, 'Don't talk about everlastin' joy,
mother, 'tis like a hepitaph'--which I answers quick an' sez, 'Your mind
may run on hepitaphs, Twitt, seein' 'tis your livin', but mine don't do
no such thing, an' when I sez everlastin' joy for man an' wife, I means
it.' An' then Mister Reay comes an' pats me on the shoulder cosy like
an' sez, 'Right you are, Mrs. Twitt!' an' 'e walks off laughin', an'
Twitt 'e laughs too an' sez, 'Good luck to the bridegroom an' the
bride,' which I aint denyin', but there was still the thought o' the
potato peel an' the clinker, an' it's come clear to-day now I've 'eerd
as 'ow poor old David's gone!" She paused to take breath, and shook her
head solemnly. "It's my opinion 'e'll never come back no more!"

"Oh, don't say that!" exclaimed Mary, distressed. "Don't even think it!"

But Mrs. Twitt was not to be shaken in her pronouncement.

"'E'll never come back no more!" she said. "An' the children on the
shore 'ull miss 'im badly, for 'e was a reg'lar Father Christmas to
'em, not givin' presents by any manner o' means, 'avin' none to give,
but tellin' 'em stories as kep' 'em quiet an' out of 'arms way for
'ours,--an' mendin' their toys an' throwin' their balls an' spinnin'
their tops like the 'armless old soul 'e was! I'm right sorry 'e's gone!
Weircombe 'll miss 'im for sartin sure!"

And this was the general feeling of the whole village when the
unexpected departure of "old David" became known. Angus Reay, returning
in the afternoon, reported that he had walked half the way, and had
driven the other half with a man who had given him a lift in his trap,
right into Minehead, but had seen and heard nothing of the missing waif
and stray. Coming back to Weircombe with the carrier's cart, he had
questioned the carrier as to whether he had seen the old man anywhere
along the road, but this inquiry likewise met with failure.

"So the only thing to do, Mary," said Angus, finally, "is to beli