The animal which now trotted up to the door of this very rural inn was certainly what the worthy landlord might denominate a "_hoss_;" but it looked much more like a barrel on four legs, and those not very long ones. It was, in fact, a little short pursy galloway, as fat as it could be, and this fat must have been of a very perdurable kind, for though the dust with which it was covered, and some splashes of mud upon its legs, seemed to indicate that it had come a long way, yet it had certainly lost none of its bulk by the process of perspiration. It was sleek and well to do, in short, and when its master stopped at the little public-house, it stretched out its nose, as if prepared to ask the first person who appeared, if it could have the dinner and bed which the inscription promised. The rider was a short fattish man, somewhat resembling his beast, but rather more gaudily attired; for the pony contented himself with a coat of grey, while he who bestrid him was dressed, like Joseph, in a garment of many colours. The old man upon the ladder heard the horse's feet on the road, and turned round to gaze, resting from his work the while. The sight of a stranger in the place seemed to give him no pleasure. He was callous to all such things, and he only set his jaws tight together, and mumbled something to himself. A boy, and then an old woman, came out from the house. The stranger dismounted, took his saddle-bags from the pony's back, and entered the little dwelling. The boy led the pony round to the rear of the house, and the old man assailed the yew-tree again. If, however, he thought he was to go on uninterruptedly that morning, he was mistaken; for, in about five minutes more, the stranger walked up to the gate of the churchyard, advanced to the foot of the ladder, and looked up. The other took no notice of him whatever, except by stretching forth his arm, and, with greater strength than one might have believed him to possess, striking off a somewhat thicker branch of yew than usual, which fell upon the visitor's head and knocked his hat off. "Ay! ashes to ashes, dust to dust!" muttered the old man, with a slight smile curling the corner of his mouth. The other picked up his hat, brushed off the dust with his coat-sleeve, and then, without any observation on the accident, raised his voice, saying, "I wish you would come down, sexton, and let me into the church." "What makes you think I am sexton?" asked the old man, gruffly. "I never buried you or any of your kin." "No, but you look like old father Time," answered the other, laughing; "and he buries all men." "Then you should take me by the forelock," answered the sexton, whom the joke seemed to mollify a little; "and I have no forelock to take. So you are out, master. I am the sexton, however. But what do you want in the church?" "I hear you have some fine statues there," replied the other; "and I want to see them." But the old man was not yet satisfied.