"I advise the committee to accept that," said the miller Taverner. "'Tis a public-spirited offer, and if Noah does well out of the beer, why shouldn't he? In fact, I second it." "Are we agreed?" asked Mr. Churchward, and all held up a hand but Mr. Norseman. The publican resented his attitude as a personal slight. "Don't you come to fill your belly with my free lunch, then--that's all, for you won't be served," he said, furiously. "Have no fear," answered the other. "I never support drink, and never shall, Mr. Pearn." "Order--order!" cried the chairman. "The free lunch is carried. Now, neighbours, please hear me. The first thing to decide is, shall we or shall we not have a procession? If any man can think of a better idea, let him speak." "Impossible," declared the postmaster. "You have hit on exactly the right thing, Mr. Chairman. A procession is the highest invention the human mind can ever reach on great occasions, and the most famous events of the world, from ancient times downwards, are always marked so. The bigger the affair, the longer the procession. History is simply packed full of them." "Hear, hear, Spry!" said Mr. Taverner. "And what the postmaster says is true. 'Tis always a solemn sight to see men walking two by two, whether they be worthies of the nation or mere convicts chained together." The committee, without a dissentient voice, agreed to a procession, and Mr. Churchward was much gratified. He bowed from the chair. "I'm very pleased to have been the humble instrument of expressing your views in a word, gentlemen," he began. "And now arises the question of the nature of the pageant." "The Goose Club might walk, for one thing," suggested Mr. Prout. "It shall," answered Pearn; "as the president of the Goose Club, I can promise that." "And I'll speak for the Ancient Dartymoor Druids--Lydford Branch," said Jacob Taverner. "But I won't promise the banner if the day be wet. It cost three pounds, and wouldn't stand weather." "That's very good to begin with, I'm sure," declared Mr. Churchward; then old Huggins made his first contribution to the debate. "Us must have brass moosic, souls. There's nought like trumpets--they'll carry off anything. I mind when Jimmy Briggs was buried there never was a poorer funeral--nought but five or six humble creatures behind, and me an' a few other men to carry him. But, just as we stopped to change hands, what should go by but a four-hoss coach! And the guard didn't see us, and blowed a sudden blast as would sartainly have made us drop the carpse if he hadn't been on the ground for the moment. But there 'twas; it gave a great grandeur to the scene, and comforted the mourners, like the Trump of Doom." "Brass music, of course," said Jarratt Weekes. "The Okehampton Yeomanry band is very good, and their black and silver uniforms would look fine in the show." "They'll cost a pot of money; that's the worst of them," said the postmaster.