“Well, there's many a worse shake-down than that. Who are you? Ever been about here before?” “I was once”. “You put me in mind of an old chum of mine....Well, here's half-a-crown for you to go on with”. “Make it a crown”, said Hogarth, “and get me to clean up down there; in a shocking state with mast and leaves”. Frankl considered. “All right, I don't mind”. “I shall want a spade, and--a barrow”. “Go down the path yonder, till you come to the stables, and tell them”. Frankl resumed his musing stroll, and Hogarth ran for the barrow. In twenty minutes he was again at the elm tree, and, with a scheme in him for seeing Rebekah, heaped the barrow with refuse, pushed it between a beck and the wood, till, wearying of this, he was about to get the meteorite into the barrow, when he had the mad thought that Frankl must be made to see and touch it, so set off to seek him: and a few yards brought him face to face with Frankl. “Well, how goes it?” asked the Jew. “There is a weight there which I can't lift”, said Hogarth. “Then you must do the other thing. Don't lift it, and you don't get the pay. What weight is it?” “It is here”. Hogarth led him, led him, pointing. Frankl kicked the meteorite. “What is it?” he asked. “It can't be a branch”, said Hogarth; “too heavy--more like a piece of old iron”. “Well, slip into it. A strapping fellow like you ought to be able to do that bit”. “But suppose it's valuable?” “I make you a present of it, as you are so hard up”. Now Hogarth, by tilting the barrow, with strong effort of four limbs, got the meteorite lodged, while Frankl, his smile lifting the wrinkles above his thick moustache, watched the strain: then, with arms behind, went his contemplative way. Hogarth rolled the barrow toward Thring. XXV CHURCH ARCHITECTURE It was already eleven o'clock, the sun shining in a bright sky, under which the country round the Waveney lay broad to the hills of mist which seemed to encompass the valley; yet, when one came to them no hills were there, but were still beyond. When Hogarth came out from the wood upon a footbridge, to his right a hand-sower was sowing broadcast, with a two-handed rhythm, taking seed, as he strode, from his scrip; and to the left ran a path between fields to an eminence with a little church on it; straight northward some Thring houses visible, and north-east, near the river, Lagden Dip orchard. Only two stooping women in fields near Thring could Hogarth see; also, still further, a gig-and-horse whose remote motion was imperceptible; also the trudging two-handed process of the sower nourishing the furrows. But for these, England, supposed to be “overcrowded”, seemed a land once inhabited, but abandoned.