for they had never heard such a funny sermon before but still they said to themselves, "He'll be better perhaps by-and-bye, and if he isn't better we shall know how to deal with him."
Next Sunday, when there was service again, the church was so crowded full with folk who wished to hear the new priest that there was scarce standing-room. Well, he came again, and went straight up into the pulpit, and there he stood awhile and said never a word. But all at once he burst out, and bawled at the top of his voice—
"Hearken to me, old Nannygoat Bridget! Why in the world do you sit so far back in the church?"
"Oh, your reverence," said she, "if you must know, it's because my shoes are all in holes."
"That's no reason; for you might take an old bit of pig-skin and stitch yourself new shoes, and then you could also come far forward in the church, like the other fine ladies. For the rest, you all ought to bethink yourselves of the way you are going; for I see when ye come to church, some of you come from the north and some from the south, and it is the same when you go from church again. But sometimes ye stand and loiter on the way, and then it may well be asked, 'What will become of you?' Yea! who can tell what will become of every one of us? By the way, I have to give notice of a black mare which has strayed from the old priest's widow. She has hair on her fetlocks and a falling mane, and other marks which I will not name in this place. Besides, I may tell you I have a hole in my old breeches-pocket, and I know it, but you do not know it; and another thing you do not
