soundly fined; and not even the able Daredeville would
undertake to defend them.

The Stockingtonians were chopfallen, but they were angry and dogged; and
They thronged up to the village and the front of the hall. They filled
the little inn in the hamlet-they went by scores, and roving all over the
churchyard, read epitaphs

That teach the rustic moralists to die,

but don't teach them to give up their old indulgences very
good-humoredly. They went and sat in rows on the old churchyard wall,
opposite to the very windows of the irate Sir Roger. They felt themselves
beaten, and Sir Roger felt himself beaten. True, he could coerce them to
the keeping of the footpaths--but, then, they had the footpaths! True,
thought the Stockingtonians, we have the footpaths, but then the
picnic-ing, and the fishing, and the islands! The Stockingtonians were
full of sullen wrath, and Sir Roger was--oh, most expressive old Saxon
phrase--HAIRSORE! Yes, he was one universal round of vexation and
jealousy of his rights. Every hair in his body was like a pin sticking
into him. Come within a dozen yards of him; nay, at the most, blow on
him, and he was excruciated--you rubbed his sensitive hairs at a
furlong's distance.

The next Sunday the people found the churchyard locked up, except during
service, when beadles walked there, and desired them not to loiter and
disturb the congregation, closing the gates, and showing them out like
a flock of sheep the moment the service was over. This was fuel to the
already boiling blood of Stockington. The week following, what was their
astonishment to find a much frequented ruin gone! it was actually gone!
not a trace of it; but the spot where it had stood for ages, turfed,
planted with young spruce trees, and fenced off with post and rail! The
exasperated people now launched forth an immensity of fulminations
against the churl Sir Roger, and a certain number of them resolved to
come and seat themselves in the street of the hamlet and there dine; but
a terrific thunderstorm, which seemed in league with Sir Roger, soon
routed them, drenched them through, and on attempting to seek shelter in
the cottages, the poor people said they were very sorry, but it was as
much as their holdings were worth, and they dare not admit them.

Sir Roger had triumphed! It was all over with the old delightful days at
Rockville. There was an end of picnic-ing, of fishing, and of roving in
the islands. One sturdy disciple o