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And Maryllia herself, putting on her hat, called Plato to her side, and started off for the village, resolved to make the church her first object of interest, in order to see the wondrous 'Sarky.
Almost as sarky as the Snark herself!" commented Cicely, as Ingred, choking over a last biscuit, stumped away. There is much written nowadays about the unconscious power of thought waves, and certainly one grumbler can often spread dissatisfaction through an entire community.
Eighty-nine years o' livin' wi' ye, summer in and summer out, don't improve ye, talk to ye as I will and as I may, ye're all as mis'able sinners as ever ye was, and never a saint among ye 'cept the one in the Sarky Fagus."
He's that good, that as we often sez, if m'appen there ain't no saint in the Sarky an' nowt but dust, we've got a real live saint walkin' free among us as is far more 'spectable to look at in his plain coat an' trousers than they monks an' friars in the picter-books wi' ropes around their waistses an' bald crowns, which ain't no sign to me o' bein' full o' grace, but rather loss of 'air, an' which you will presently see yourself, Miss, as 'ow Mr.
And she laughed again. "And what is the saint in the Sarky?" Here she removed her hand from the mouth she was guarding. "Say it in one word, if you can, what is the Sarky?" "It's in the church," said Mrs. Spruce, dauntlessly proceeding with her flow of narrative, and encouraged thereto by the sparkling mirth in her mistress's face "We calls it Sarky for short.
The arrival of John Walden as minister of the parish, the re-building of the church, and the discovery of the medieval sarcophagus, which old Josey Letherbarrow always called the Sarky Fagus, together with the consecration ceremony by Bishop Brent, were the only episodes in ten years that had moved it slightly from its normal calm.
Walden he discovered it when he was rebuildin' the church, an' when the Bishop come to conskrate it, he sez 'twas a saint in there an' that's why the village is called St. Rest but you'll find it all out yourself. Miss, an' as I sez an' I don't care who 'ears me, the real saint ain't in the Sarky at all, it's just Mr. Walden himself, " Again Maryllia's hand closed her mouth.
Josey Letherbarrow, what reads, an' 'as larnin', calls it the Sarky Fagus, an' my Kitty, she's studied at the school, an' SHE sez 'it's Sar-KO- fagus, mother, which it may be or it mayn't, for the schools don't know more than the public-'ouses in my opinion, leastways it's a great long white coffin what's supposed to 'ave the body of a saint inside it, an' Mr.
I'm. glad he's good to the people, and that they like him that's really all that's necessary, and it's all I want to know. Go along, Spruce! don't talk to me any more about saints in the Sarky or out of the Sarky! There never was a real saint in the world never! not in the shape of a man!" With laughter still dancing in her eyes, she turned away, and Mrs.
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