atch, the umpires having respectively engaged Farmer
Thackum that Amos shall keep the peace, Tom Coper that Ben shall give
no unnecessary or wanton provocation--a nicely worded and lawyer-like
clause, and one that proves that Tom Coper hath his doubts of the
young gentleman's discretion; and, of a truth, so have I. I would not
be Ben Kirby's surety, cautiously as the security is worded--no! not
for a white double dahlia, the present object of my ambition.

This village of ours is swarming to-night like a hive of bees, and all
the church bells round are pouring out their merriest peals, as if to
call them together. I must try to give some notion of the various
figures.

First, there is a group suited to Teniers, a cluster of out-of-door
customers of the Rose, old benchers of the inn, who sit round a table
smoking and drinking in high solemnity to the sound of Timothy's
fiddle. Next, a mass of eager boys, the combatants of Monday, who are
surrounding the shoemaker's shop, where an invisible hole in their
ball is mending by Master Keep himself, under the joint
superintendence of Ben Kirby and Tom Coper. Ben showing much verbal
respect and outward deference for his umpire's judgment and
experience, but managing to get the ball done his own way after all;
whilst outside the shop, the rest of the eleven, the less trusted
commons, are shouting and bawling round Joel Brent, who is twisting
the waxed twine round the handles of the bats--the poor bats, which
please nobody, which the taller youths are despising as too little and
too light, and the smaller are abusing as too heavy and too large.
Happy critics! winning their match can hardly be a greater
delight--even if to win it they be doomed! Farther down the street is
the pretty black-eyed girl, Sally Wheeler, come home for a day's
holiday from B., escorted by a tall footman in a dashing livery, whom
she is trying to curtsy off before her deaf grandmother sees him. I
wonder whether she will succeed!

Ascending the hill are two couples of a different description. Daniel
Tubb and his fair Valentine, walking boldly along like licensed
lovers; they have been asked twice in church, and are to be married on
Tuesday; and closely following that happy pair, near each other but
not together, come Jem Tanner and Mabel Green, the poor culprits of
the wheat-hoeing. Ah! the little clerk hath not relented! The course
of true love doth not yet run smooth in that quarter. Jem dodges
along,