'All the world is sad and dreary Everywhere I roam, Oh, brudders, how my heart grows weary . . .' "The tune ceased. The only sound now came from a robin, hunting about the turf and now and then breaking out into an impatient twitter. "The silence was broken at length by the footsteps of the mourners returning. They went down the hill almost as decorously as they had gone up. Flo stepped aside and came towards me. "'Let me stay beside you for a bit. I can't go back there--yet.' "This was all she said; and we stood there side by side for minutes. Soon the tinkle of a banjo came up to us, and a pair of billiard balls clicked; then a second banjo joined in; and gradually, as the stream of citizens trickled back and spread, so like a stream the sound of clicking billiard balls and tinkling banjoes trickled back and spread along the main street of Eucalyptus City." 'Was it weary there, In de wilderness? . . .' "Flo looked at me and put out a hand; but drew it back before I could take it. And so, without another word, she went down the hill." WIDDERSHINS. A DROLL. Once upon a time there was a small farmer living in Wendron parish, not far from the church-town. 'Thaniel Teague was his name. This Teague happened to walk into Helston on a Furry-day, when the Mayor and townspeople dance through the streets to the Furry-tune. In the evening there was a grand ball given at the Angel Hotel, and the landlord very kindly allowed Teague--who had stopped too late as it was--to look in through the door and watch the gentry dance the Lancers. Teague thought he had never seen anything so heavenly. What with one hindrance and another 'twas past midnight before he reached home, and then nothing would do for him but he must have his wife and six children out upon the floor in their night-clothes, practising the Grand Chain while he sang-- Out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise! The seventh child, the babby, they set down in the middle of the floor, like a nine-pin. And the worst of it was, the poor mite twisted his eyes so, trying to follow his mammy round and round, that he grew up with a cast from that hour. 'Tis of this child--Joby he was called--that I am going to tell you. Barring the cast, he grew up a very straight lad, and in due time began to think upon marrying. His father's house faced south, and as it came easier to him to look north-west than any other direction, he chose a wife from Gwinear parish. His elder brothers had gone off to sea for their living, and his sister had married a mine-captain: so when the old people died, Joby took over the farm and worked it, and did very well.