Willis dropped the napkin that was the starting signal and they were off. Bessie got off in the midst and was making remarkable speed for so large a woman. Cries of encouragement went up from all sides, for Bessie was the favorite, such a favorite as there had never been in any race. There was not one who did not want her to win. And Bessie was doing her best, although very nearly helpless with laughter. Slowly she forged ahead into the lead. Fifteen more yards and the victory would be hers.
But suddenly something happened. It seemed that she tripped over something, perhaps a root, and fell to the ground. A cry went up and fifty people ran to help her. But when they got to her side, she seemed unable to rise. She lay there quite still, breathing with difficulty. Six men carried her into the shade of the great oak. They brought water and fanned her and from somewhere in the congregation there appeared an unsuspected bottle of brandy. They poured part of this between her lips. But there was nothing to be done. Her breathing stopped presently. She had died of apoplexy in the midst of merriment.
At the chapel they gave her a great funeral. Mr. Blundon attended it and 'er Gryce sent a wreath made by the gardeners at Narkworth House. The preacher delivered a long sermon of eulogy, calling attention to the new organ, the new windows and the baptismal font, and most of all to the August Bank Holiday Excursion and Annual Picnic. In the
