what you might
praise it (if you had been with us all the evening), although the parson
was gone then, and the clerk not fit to compare with him in the matter
of keeping time. But when that song was in its third singing, I defy any
man (however sober) to have made out one verse from the other, or even
the burden from the verses, inasmuch as every man present, ay, and woman
too, sang as became convenient to them, in utterance both of words and
tune.

And in truth, there was much excuse for them; because it was a noble
harvest, fit to thank the Lord for, without His thinking us hypocrites.
For we had more land in wheat, that year, than ever we had before,
and twice the crop to the acre; and I could not help now and then
remembering, in the midst of the merriment, how my father in the
churchyard yonder would have gloried to behold it. And my mother, who
had left us now, happening to return just then, being called to have her
health drunk (for the twentieth time at least), I knew by the sadness
in her eyes that she was thinking just as I was. Presently, therefore,
I slipped away from the noise, and mirth, and smoking (although of that
last there was not much, except from Farmer Nicholas), and crossing the
courtyard in the moonlight, I went, just to cool myself, as far as my
father's tombstone.

CHAPTER XXX

ANNIE GETS THE BEST OF IT

I had long outgrown unwholesome feeling as to my father's death, and
so had Annie; though Lizzie (who must have loved him least) still
entertained some evil will, and longing for a punishment. Therefore I
was surprised (and indeed, startled would not be too much to say,
the moon being somewhat fleecy), to see our Annie sitting there as
motionless as the tombstone, and with all her best fallals upon her,
after stowing away the dishes.

My nerves, however, are good and strong, except at least in love
matters, wherein they always fail me, and when I meet with witches; and
therefore I went up to Annie, although she looked so white and pure;
for I had seen her before with those things on, and it struck me who she
was.

"What are you doing here, Annie?" I inquired rather sternly, being vexed
with her for having gone so very near to frighten me.

"Nothing at all," said our Annie shortly. And indeed it was truth enough
for a woman. Not that I dare to believe that women are such liars as men
say; only that I mean they often see things round the corner, and know
not which is which of it. A