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Updated: June 13, 2025
So Guy visited the handsome church, studied the grave-yard, and gathered the traditions of the place from the old sexton's wife, who rejoiced in finding an auditor for her long stories of the good Archdeacon, Miss Fanny, and Mr. Philip. She shook her head, saying times were changed, and 'Miss Morville that was, never came neist the place.
On quitting the grave-yard, our guide, an intelligent old man, conducted us towards a sort of observatory, from which, as it occupies the summit of the hill, a fine view of the surrounding country is to be obtained.
One would have thought he would have delighted in portraying those lovely human beings, whom one always imagines endowed with an outward and visible form as youthful, beautiful, and full of grace, as their passion itself was. Surely the balcony, the garden, and grave-yard scenes, would have furnished admirable subjects for his delicate and powerful hand.
"Sir," saith she, "I have made vow thereof, and moreover a holy hermit hath told me that the knight that warreth upon us may not be overcome of no knight, save I bring him not some of the cloth wherewith the altar in the chapel of the Grave-yard Perilous is covered.
"I wouldn't change a word of it," she said, and he thanked her. "Jasper," said Laz, "I didn't know you could write." "Wall," the old man drawled, "I kain't write as putty as the county clerk, but I kin write as big. So you like it, ma'm?" "Yes, Uncle Jasper." "Wall," said he, looking at his work, "it's the truth, an' thar ain't nuthin' skeercer than truth on grave-yard rocks."
I wanted to see a better condition of things. I knew this neglect was because no one would make a move. Young, who had recently lost a husband who was very dear to her. I told her she was the one to organize a grave-yard association. That this letter would call the ladies together.
The young man's face was a study. He looked as if he had seen a grave-yard full of ghosts. "Nick Carter," he whispered, "this is dreadful." "What?" "Hush! I had to fool him. I positively had to or he would have gone crazy." He poured the words into Nick's ear in an excited whisper. "I made him think the clasp was in the box, but it isn't. I substituted another piece. The clasp is gone.
"It's equal to me, ma'am; I got enough of it," she retorted, quickly, "when its fine on a Sunday now, I go to the grave-yard, my mother is there an' it's a big place, there's room for all kinds in it. I sit down an' cry a bit, an' ask her to pray for the poor, for they have a hard time of it here, but I don't think she can hear me, for I'm not much the better of my prayers."
Markham, and another to Mr. Dixon, if you will be so kind as to write and enclose them. Thank you, dear papa. She drew a blotting-book towards him, saw that there was ink and pen, and left him too much appalled at her ways to say anything. His task was less hard than the one she had set her mother. Strong excitement had carried Philip to the grave-yard as soon as he learnt what was passing.
From the bank where we sat, the village grave-yard was discernible, with its marble gleaming through the trees, and at last, as her eye wandered in that direction, she said, "Have any of our villagers died? Mother's letters were never very definite." "Yes," I answered, "Our minister, Mr. Sumner, died two months ago."
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