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DEWY AND SON, TRANTERS AND HAULIERS, MELLSTOCK. NB. Furniture, Coals, Potatoes, Live and Dead Stock, removed to any distance on the shortest notice. Mr. Maybold leant over the parapet of the bridge and looked into the river.
Anyhow, Mop had, very obviously, never bowed a note of church- music from his birth; he never once sat in the gallery of Mellstock church where the others had tuned their venerable psalmody so many hundreds of times; had never, in all likelihood, entered a church at all. All were devil's tunes in his repertory.
At the conclusion of the meal Dick went out to put the horse in; and Fancy, with the elder half of the four bridesmaids, retired upstairs to dress for the journey to Dick's new cottage near Mellstock. "How long will you be putting on your bonnet, Fancy?" Dick inquired at the foot of the staircase.
"Though I do think that bulls are more moved by a tune than cows at least that's my experience. Once there was an old aged man over at Mellstock William Dewy by name one of the family that used to do a good deal of business as tranters over there Jonathan, do ye mind? I knowed the man by sight as well as I know my own brother, in a manner of speaking.
They, too, had lost their rotundity with the daylight, and advanced against the sky in flat outlines, which suggested some processional design on Greek or Etruscan pottery. They represented the chief portion of Mellstock parish choir. The first was a bowed and bent man, who carried a fiddle under his arm, and walked as if engaged in studying some subject connected with the surface of the road.
But circumstances would have rendered any aim at a deeper, more essential, more transcendent handling unadvisable at the date of writing; and the exhibition of the Mellstock Quire in the following pages must remain the only extant one, except for the few glimpses of that perished band which I have given in verse elsewhere. T. H. April 1912.
Steadying herself by the help of one crutch, she essayed a step, then another, then a third, using the crutches now as walking-sticks only. Thus she progressed till descending Mellstock Hill another milestone appeared, and soon the beginning of an iron-railed fence came into view. She staggered across to the first post, clung to it, and looked around.
The next evidences of his influence over her were singular enough, and it would require a neurologist to fully explain them. She would be sitting quietly, any evening after dark, in the house of her father, the parish clerk, which stood in the middle of Stickleford village street, this being the highroad between Lower Mellstock and Moreford, five miles eastward.
He had in his time heard bitter ironies from Henchard's lips, and there might be ironies now. He quickened the horse's pace, and had soon risen into the high country lying between there and Mellstock, Henchard's spasmodic run after him lending yet more substance to his thought of evil purposes.
It was the evening of a fine spring day. The descending sun appeared as a nebulous blaze of amber light, its outline being lost in cloudy masses hanging round it, like wild locks of hair. The chief members of Mellstock parish choir were standing in a group in front of Mr. Penny's workshop in the lower village.
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