‘And now so’s,’ remarked the fifth ringer, as pertaining to the last allusion, ‘we’ll finish this drop o’ metheglin and cider, and every man home--along straight as a line.’ ‘Wi’ all my heart,’ Clerk Crickett replied. ‘And the Lord send if I ha’n’t done my duty by Master Teddy Springrove--that I have so.’ ‘And the rest o’ us,’ they said, as the cup was handed round. ‘Ay, ay--in ringen--but I was spaken in a spiritual sense o’ this mornen’s business o’ mine up by the chancel rails there. ‘Twas very convenient to lug her here and marry her instead o’ doen it at that twopenny-halfpenny town o’ Budm’th. Very convenient.’ ‘Very. There was a little fee for Master Crickett.’ ‘Ah--well. Money’s money--very much so--very--I always have said it. But ‘twas a pretty sight for the nation. He coloured up like any maid, that ‘a did.’ ‘Well enough ‘a mid colour up. ‘Tis no small matter for a man to play wi’ fire.’ ‘Whatever it may be to a woman,’ said the clerk absently. ‘Thou’rt thinken o’ thy wife, clerk,’ said Gad Weedy. ‘She’ll play wi’it again when thou’st got mildewed.’ ‘Well--let her, God bless her; for I’m but a poor third man, I. The Lord have mercy upon the fourth!... Ay, Teddy’s got his own at last. What little white ears that maid hev, to be sure! choose your wife as you choose your pig--a small ear and a small tale--that was always my joke when I was a merry feller, ah--years agone now! But Teddy’s got her. Poor chap, he was getten as thin as a hermit wi’ grief--so was she.’ ‘Maybe she’ll pick up now.’ ‘True--‘tis nater’s law, which no man shall gainsay. Ah, well do I bear in mind what I said to Pa’son Raunham, about thy mother’s family o’ seven, Gad, the very first week of his comen here, when I was just in my prime. “And how many daughters has that poor Weedy got, clerk?” he says. “Six, sir,” says I, “and every one of ‘em has a brother!” “Poor woman,” says he, “a dozen children!--give her this half-sovereign from me, clerk.” ‘A laughed a good five minutes afterwards, when he found out my merry nater--‘a did. But there, ‘tis over wi’ me now. Enteren the Church is the ruin of a man’s wit for wit’s nothen without a faint shadder o’ sin.’ ‘If so be Teddy and the lady had been kept apart for life, they’d both ha’ died,’ said Gad emphatically. ‘But now instead o’ death there’ll be increase o’ life,’ answered the clerk. ‘It all went proper well,’ said the fifth bell-ringer. ‘They didn’t flee off to Babylonish places--not they.’ He struck up an attitude--‘Here’s Master Springrove standen so: here’s the married woman standen likewise; here they d’walk across to Knapwater House; and there they d’bide in the chimley corner, hard and fast.’