98 Turnaside Cottage.

 

Tommy, “only parson caught me once in his wood
—bless you, I wasn’t up to no harm, but he thought

 

I was—and says he, ‘If ever I catches you again, my

lad, you will remember it!’ So I doesn’t go to see

’

him ; not now.” And Tommy grinned.

“But [Pm afraid Nance won’t want to see Mr.
Phelps,” I objected.

“Tell you her that it’s the thing to do, and
Nanty Liza does it regular.’ Nanty Liza was the
oldest person in the parish, and therefore an
honourable example.

I found no difficulty, however, in persuading
Nance. Mr. Phelps saw me himself, and spoke
kindly to me. It was a Friday, he was busy
Saturday and Sunday, and had an engagement for
Monday; on Tuesday, therefore, he would come.
I strove to make the best use of the time that
passed before his visit, but it was uphill work. I
never knew a person who cared less for hymns
than Nance; even the figurative descriptions of
Heaven, that I thought so beautiful, seemed nothing
to her; and I wondered, not having yet learnt
that the proverb, “ As the tree falls, so will it lie,”
is most true, in the sense that as a person’s thoughts
and desires have turned in health, so will they turn
in sickness. Poor Nance’s thoughts had long been
confined to the house and the village, and they