The meeting was at length brought to a conclusion, and the people trod their homeward way, filled with precious experiences of a day which still lives in the memories of some who are yet spared by the sweeping scythe of Time, to tell the story of the glorious meeting on Nestleton Green, and the episode of Black Morris’s singular contribution. In due time the front gable reared its graceful head, and midway in the wall was placed a slab of stone, with a square orifice cut in the middle, in which the brickbat was inserted, and round about it an inscription to the following effect:-- [Illustration: WESLEYAN METHODIST CHAPEL, BUILT 1835.] One day, when Mr. Clayton was sauntering round the new erection, noticing with much satisfaction how nearly it approached completion, he was joined by John Morris, who paid a daily visit of inspection to the building in which he had so deep and strong an interest. They stood together, reading the inscription on the tablet and looking at the suggestive square within. “Morris,” said Mr. Clayton with a smile, “that cut in the stone will outlast the scar on my cheek! I count that seam one of the most precious things that I possess.” “And I,” said Morris, “count it one of the most shameful things that even I ever did in my reckless wickedness. But, see, there is a B directly below it and an M immediately above it, and so it will perpetuate Black Morris’s repentance so long as the walls endure; or, if you read it downwards, Morris’s Brickbat is intimated quite as clearly.” “Well, that’s one way of looking at it,” said Mr. Clayton, laughing, “but I have already read it downwards, and in my own mind have translated it into Methodist Booty; and I declare to you that I would willingly bear the brunt of another attack if I could capture another brickbat and another warm-hearted Christian like John Morris;” so saying he shook his companion warmly by the hand. That worthy fellow’s answer was a grateful look, through glistening eyes, as he silently turned away. CHAPTER XXXIX. NESTLETON PUTS ON HOLIDAY ATTIRE. “Now all is done; bring home the bride again, Bring home the triumph of our victory; Bring home with you the glory of her gain, With joyaunce bring her and with jollitie. Never had man more joyful day than this, Whom heaven would heap with bliss. Make feast, therefore, now all this livelong day, This day for ever to me holy is.” _Spenser._