en minnits, an' then he staggered up 'pon hes feet
an' sneaked out o' them peas like a chuck-sheep dog, an' the
repent'nce a-tricklin' out 'n ivery pore. He passed me by that close
I cou'd ha' knacked 'n over wi' a stick, but he didn' see me more'n
ef I'd a'been a pisky-man. [11] All hes notiss, I reckon, were for
that gashly eye; an' he looked back ivery now and agen, like as ef
he'd say, 'I be but worms; an', wuss nor that, I've a-been a
scoffin', lyin', Sabbath-breakin' ould worms; but do 'ee let me off
this wance, an' I'll strive an' wrastle,' he seemed to say, 'an' do
purty well all a rook can to be gathered to the fold.' An' wi' that
he slinks over th' hedge an' out o' sight.

"Well, sir, I didn' see 'n agen nex' day, nor for many days arter;
but on Sunday-week, as et mou't be, i' the mornin' I'd a-took French
lave an' absented mysel' from Meetin' House, an' were quietly smokin'
my pipe up in the town-place, [12] when I hears a chitterin' an' a
chatterin' like as 'twere a little way off; an' lookin' down t'wards
the twenty-acred field, I seed 'twere black wi' rooks--fairly black,
sir--black as the top o' your hat. Thinks I, 'I reckon here's some
new caper,' an' I loafes down to see the fun.

"I stales down the lane, an' looks over the gate, an' when I takes
in, at las', what 'tes all about, my!--you mou't ha' knacked me down
wi' a feather! 'Twas a prayer-meetin' them rooks was a-holdin', sir,
as I'm a senner. The peas was fairly hid wi' the crowd, an' 'twas
that thick I counted sax 'pon wan pea-stick. An' in the middle, jes'
onder the scarecrow, stood up th' ould rook I'd a-seen afore, an'
told hes experiences. He ramped, an' raved, an' mopped, an' mowed,
an' kep' a-noddin' his head t'wards the scarecrow, to show how hes
salvashun was worked; an' all the time the rest o' the rooks sat
still as mice. On'y when he pulls up to breathe a bit, they lets out
an' squalls, as ef to say, 'Amen. 'Tes workin'--'tes workin'!
Pray strong, brother!' an' at et he'd go agen, same as he _must_.
An' at las', when 'twas 'hold breath or bust' wi' 'un, he ups an'
starts a hemn, an' they all jines in, till you mou't hear the
caprouse [13] two mile off. That were the finish, too; for arter the
row died away, there was a minnit or so o' silent prayer, an' then
the whole gang gets up off they pea-sticks an' sails away for Squire
Tresawsen's rookery, t'other side o' the hill.

"Well, in cou'se I tells the tale, an' was called