could not imagine how any man, having his eyes about him, could prefer such a skit of a thing as Mary to her. But so it was. Cook felt it to be so acutely, and hence she did hope that it would have been proved that the miller had taken Snorter out of the stable; but as it was then to all abundantly clear, that he could not by any possibility have been the man, the question which naturally suggested itself, was—"Whom could it have been?" That was the question! And an interesting question it was.
CHAPTER IV.
THE CHURCHYARD.
As the world has ever been governed by mysteries—by mysteries amazed—by mysteries amused—by mysteries excited, subdued, and kept in awe—he, who could be, by his hopes of immortality, prompted to grapple with, to open, and to spread completely out, the philosophy of mystery, would be, beyond all dispute, hailed by the mysterious as a benefactor to his species. It wouldn't, however, do here: there isn't room for it: and even if there were, such a profound interference with the progress of this history wouldn't be exactly correct; but that a mystery is an affair which doth exercise over the human mind an immense amount of influence is manifest in this, that upon the mysterious piece of business in question, Aunt Eleanor, during the whole morning dwelt.
She couldn't make it out!—and in the fact of its being apparently impossible to be made out, consists the chief beauty of a mystery:—she sent for her reverend friend, but he could throw no light at all upon the subject; feeling, however, bound to do something, he benevolently proffered his advice.
"With respect," said he, "to the horse affair, I have nothing whatever to say, being utterly unable to conjecture with justice either how it occurred, or who could have been the man, but, as far as the pastry matter is concerned, I have a few words of advice to offer. The same thing occurred to me some years ago, when I kept an academy near Chat Moss. I was constantly losing my pastry. Night after night it went with all the regularity imaginable. I couldn't tell how, but it went. I used even to lock the pantry-door and keep the key in my chamber: still it continued to go. Well, at length resolved to discover, if possible, the cause of all this, I, one evening, introduced a little gentle jalap, and patiently waited the result, which was this, that in the morning there was not a single youth in the establishment perfectly free from qualms! I then at once saw how the matter stood, of course! and although I took no apparent notice of the circumstance, my pastry was thenceforward safe. They wouldn't eat it, even when placed before them!—I couldn't
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