"Yes--tenor bell among the ringers. A very uneven-minded man. He's a wonderful ringer and wrapped up in tenor bell, as if 'twas a heathen idol. In fact, he'm not the good Christian he might be, and he'll ring oftener than he'll pray. Then Saul Luscombe to Trowlesworthy Warren--farmer and rabbit-catcher--be a very hard nut, and so's his man, Jack Head. You won't get either of them inside the church. They say in their wicked way they ain't got no need for sleeping after breakfast of a Sunday--atheists, in fact. The other labouring man from Trowlesworthy is a good Christian, however. He can read, but 'tis doubtful whether he can write." "You'll have to go to keep your appointment, Dennis," remarked his sister. "Plenty of time. Is there anything more that's particularly important, Gollop?" "Lots more. Still, if I'm to be shouted down every minute---- I comed to encourage and fortify you. I comed to tell you to have no fear, because me and sister was on your side, and always ready to fight to the death for righteousness. But you've took the wind out of our sails, in a manner of speaking. If you ban't going to walk in the old paths, I'm terrible afraid you'll find us against you." "This is impertinence," said Miss Masterman. "Not at all," answered the clerk's sister. "It's sense. 'Tis a free country, and if you'm going to set a lot of God-fearing, right-minded, sensible people by the ears, the sin be on your shoulders. You'd best to come home, Thomas." Mr. Masterman looked helplessly at his watch. "We shall soon arrive at--at--a _modus vivendi_," he said. "I don't know what that may be, your reverence," she answered; "but if 'tis an empty church, and sour looks, and trouble behind every hedge, then you certainly will arrive at it--and even sooner than you think for." "He's going to give ear to the Radicals--'tis too clear," moaned Thomas, as he rose and picked up his hat. "I can only trust that you two good people do not represent the parish," continued the vicar. "You'll terrible soon find as we do," said Miss Gollop. "So much the worse. However, it is well that we understand one another. Next Sunday I shall invite my leading parishioners to meet me in the schoolroom on the following evening. I shall then state my intentions, and listen to the opinions and objections of every man among you." "And only the men will be invited to the meeting," added Miss Masterman. "'Tis a parlous come-along-of-it," moaned the parish clerk. "I meant well. You can bear me out, Eliza, that I meant well--never man meant better." "Good evening," said Miss Masterman, and left them. "Be sure that we shall soon settle down," prophesied the vicar. "I know you mean well, Gollop; and I mean well, too. Where sensible people are concerned, friction is reduced to a minimum. We shall very soon understand one another and respect one another's opinions." "If you respect people's opinions, you abide by 'em," declared Miss Gollop.