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The gossips had gathered in force at Titus Bright's inn one night, to enjoy a pipe and a mug of his new ale. There was the school-master, and Doctor Critchel, and Hanz Toodleburg, and other choice spirits, who knew all about the affairs of the nation.
Several of the young people ran to meet them, and greeted them with such expressions of welcome as must have filled their hearts with joy. When they had nearly reached the church, Critchel proceeded to meet them with his hand extended.
Although held in great respect by the settlers, Critchel was what might be called a shabby-looking little man, for his raiment consisted of a brown coat, which he had worn threadbare, a pair of greasy pantaloons that were in shreds at the bottom, a spotted vest, and a Spitlesfield neckerchief. Indeed, he was as antique in his dress as in his ideas of the science of medicine.
"Old Bottom had many a glass of ale at my house, and never troubled anybody, except to dig their graves." "He was very poor," rejoined Critchel, in a subdued voice, "and died leaving my bill unpaid. But he was an honest man, and paid when he had it." "The son was a queer young man," resumed the Dominie. "Nobody seemed to care anything about him.
I believed you honest, you see." Chapman's familiar and even rude manner surprised and confounded Hanz. In vain he protested his innocence, and offered to call the Dominie and Doctor Critchel to testify that he had never in his life wronged any man out of a shilling. "You sold us something you had not got," continued Chapman, in an angry tone, "and in that you committed a fraud.
"Verily, good neighbor Hanz," said he, after greeting the old people with a hearty shake of the hand, "the people have had strange news to talk about for a week past." Critchel shook his head, looked serious, and taking Hanz by the arm, drew him aside. "This Chapman has fallen to the ground, they say." "Mine friend Critchel," returned Hanz, leaning on his staff, and casting a look upward.
"I tolds you tar pees un shust Got; and now you shees how dat shust Got he pees mine friend." "Aye, verily," rejoined Critchel, "and he lets them what builds castles and lives like lords suffer their disappointments. Poor people like us, who work with their hands, stick to their lands, and pay their debts, have their castles in peace and contentment."
And as the length of his engagements depended on his good behavior, which was none of the best, he was frequently seen tramping from village to village in search of a job. As for Doctor Critchel, Hanz felt that he owed him a debt of gratitude he could never pay, even were he to give him the farm. It was no use offering the doctor a new suit of clothes, as he was never known to wear such things.
I may find things changed there now. Do you know many people over there?" "Why yes nearly everybody " "Dominie Payson is he living?" "If he didn't die since yesterday. He was over here yesterday." "And Doctor Critchel you know him, I suppose? Is he alive?" "Why, help you he never intends to die."
How he struggled through the snow that night, what difficulty he had in waking up his two nearest neighbors, and getting one of them to send his son for Doctor Critchel, and what was said about such things always happening of such a night, I will leave to the imagination of my reader. It was nearly an hour before Hanz returned, bringing with him two stout, motherly-looking dames.
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