"I'd advise thee to make it up with Peter so soon as thou canst, neighbor," continued Plant; "he's a bad friend, but a worse enemy." "Why, what harm can he do me?" returned Toft, who, however, was not without some misgivings. "If I must die, I can't help it--I shall go none the sooner for him, even if he speak the truth, which I don't think he do; and if I must, I sha'n't go unprepared--only I think as how, if it pleased Providence, I could have wished to keep my old missus company some few years longer, and see those bits of lasses of mine grow up into women, and respectably provided for. But His will be done. I sha'n't leave 'em quite penniless, and there's one eye at least, I'm sure, won't be dry at my departure." Here the stout heart of Toft gave way, and he shed some few "natural tears," which, however, he speedily brushed away. "I'll tell you what, neighbors," continued he, "I think we may all as well be thinking of going to our own homes, for, to my mind, we shall never reach the churchyard to-night." "That _you_ never will," exclaimed a voice behind him; and Toft, turning round, again met the glance of Peter. "Come, come, Master Peter," cried the good-natured farmer, "this be ugly jesting--ax pardon for my share of it--sorry for what I did--so give us thy hand, man, and think no more about it." Peter extended his claw, and the parties were, apparently, once more upon terms of friendship. _CHAPTER II_ _THE FUNERAL ORATION_ In northern customs duty was exprest To friends departed by their funeral feast; Though I've consulted Hollingshed and Stow, I find it very difficult to know, Who, to refresh the attendants to the grave, Burnt claret first, or Naples' biscuit gave. KING: _Art of Cookery_. Ceterum priusquam corpus humo injectâ contegatur, defunctus oratione funebri laudabatur.--DURAND. A supply of spirits was here introduced; lights were brought at the same time, and placed upon a long oak table. The party gathering round it, ill-humor was speedily dissipated, and even the storm disregarded, in the copious libations that ensued. At this juncture, a loiterer appeared in the hall. His movements were unnoticed by all excepting the sexton, who watched his proceedings with some curiosity. The person walked to the window, appearing, so far as could be discovered, to eye the storm with great impatience. He then paced the hall rapidly backwards and forwards, and Peter fancied he could detect sounds of disappointment in his muttered exclamations. Again he returned to the window, as if to ascertain the probable duration of the shower. It was a hopeless endeavor; all was pitch-dark without; the lightning was now only seen at long intervals, but the rain still audibly descended in torrents. Apparently seeing the impossibility of controlling the elements, the person approached the table.