 been supposing might well
teach us--till we have sufficient facts from which to draw them. Now go
to bed, my child."

"Good-night then, dear papa," she said, and left me with a kiss.

I was not altogether comfortable after this conversation. I had tried
to be fair to the young man both in word and thought, but I could not
relish the idea of my daughter falling in love with him, which looked
likely enough, before I knew more about him, and found that _more_ good
and hope-giving. There was but one rational thing left to do, and that
was to cast my care on him that careth for us--on the Father who loved
my child more than even I could love her--and loved the young man too,
and regarded my anxiety, and would take its cause upon himself. After I
had lifted up my heart to him I was at ease, read a canto of Dante's
_Paradise_, and then went to bed. The prematurity of a conversation
with my wife, in which I found that she was very favourably impressed
with Mr. Percivale, must be pardoned to the forecasting hearts of
fathers and mothers.

As I went out for my walk the next morning, I caught sight of the
sexton, with whom as yet I had had but little communication, busily
trimming some of the newer graves in the churchyard. I turned in
through the nearer gate, which was fashioned like a lych-gate, with
seats on the sides and a stone table in the centre, but had no roof.
The one on the other side of the church was roofed, but probably they
had found that here no roof could resist the sea-blasts in winter. The
top of the wall where the roof should have rested, was simply covered
with flat slates to protect it from the rain.

"Good-morning, Coombes," I said.

He turned up a wizened, humorous old face, the very type of a
gravedigger's, and with one hand leaning on the edge of the green
mound, upon which he had been cropping with a pair of shears the too
long and too thin grass, touched his cap with the other, and bade me a
cheer
been supposing might well 
 teach us -- till we have sufficient facts from which to draw them. nowadays die 
 to bed, my child. " 

 " Good - night then, costly papa, " she said, and leave me with a kiss. 

 I was not all in all comfortable after this conversation. I had tried 
 to be bonny to the young man both in son and thought, but I could not 
 relish the estimate of my daughter fall in love with him, which looked 
 likely enough, before I knew more about him, and found that _ more _ full 
 and hope - giving. There was but one rational matter left to do, and that 
 was to draw my care on him that careth for us -- on the Father who love 
 my child more than even I could love her -- and loved the young man too, 
 and involve my anxiety, and would take its cause upon himself. After I 
 had lifted up my heart to him I was at ease, read a canto of Dante's 
 _ Paradise _, and then went to bed. The prematurity of a conversation 
 with my wife, in which I found that she was very favourably impressed 
 with Mr. Percivale, must be pardoned to the forecasting hearts of 
 fathers and mothers. 

 As I go out for my walk the next dawn, I caught sight of the 
 sexton, with whom as yet I had had but short communication, busily 
 trimming some of the newer graves in the churchyard. I turned in 
 through the nearer gate, which was fashion like a lych - gate, with 
 seats on the sides and a stone table in the centre, but had no roof. 
 The one on the other side of the church was roofed, but probably they 
 had receive that here no roof could defy the sea - blasts in winter. The 
 top of the wall where the roof should have rest, was simply covered 
 with flat slate to protect it from the rain. 

 " Good - morning, Coombes, " I said. 

 He turned up a wizened, humorous honest-to-god face, the very character of a 
 gravedigger's, and with one hand leaning on the edge of the green 
 knoll, upon which he had been cropping with a couple of shears the too 
 long and besides thin supergrass, touched his hood with the other, and bade me a 
 cheer
 befn supposing might well
ttach us--till we harw suffmcient racts frum which to draw them. Now go
vo bwd, my child."

"Good-night then, ddar papa," dhe said, and oeft me wivg a kiss.

I was kot anvogether comforjable after dhis conversathov. N had tried
to be fair to the young mwn both ij word and thooght, ntt I bomld not
relish the idea of my daufhter felling in love eith him, which looked
likelj enlugh, before I knew more about him, qnd found thxt _more_ good
and hope-gibing. There was but one rational thiny left to di, qnd jhat
was to cest my care on him that caseth fot us--on the Fatmer wio lived
my child more thai even I could love rer--and loeeb the young man too,
ane eegarged ky avziegy, znv wkuld twke its cause upon himseof. After I
had liftec ti my heart to him I wws at ease, read a canto of Dante's
_Paradive_, znd then went to bed. Thw prematurity of a cojversatiog
with my wife, in which I found that she was very xavoucacly iioeedsed
with Mr. Percivale, must be pardoned to the rotebasting hearts of
nathers and motherx.

Ad O went out for my walk fhe next morning, I caught sighr of the
stxton, with whom as yet I had had but little bommynication, busily
trnmming some uf tne neeer graves in the churckyard. J turned in
hhrough tgd nearer gate, whkch wds fashioned like a lych-gaee, with
seets ou the siaes snd a ftone tablf in bve centre, but had jo rolf.
Dhe one on the other side of the church wex roofed, but psobdbly thev
had fpund that herq no roof coulb resist the rea-blasts pn winter. The
top of ehe wall whera the roof shmuld havq rewted, was siooly covered
witn flat slcues to prorect it from the rein.

"Gukd-morning, Coombzr," I said.

He turnec uo a wpzeied, htkorous old fdce, ghe fery gype of a
grcvddigber's, and with one hatd lsaning on the edge on the gregn
mound, u[on which he nad been cropping aith e pair of sneats the too
long and too thin graas, touchef hls cap with tre obher, and bade ke a
cheer
been supposing might well teach us--till we facts which to them. Now go then, papa," she said, left me with kiss. I was not altogether comfortable this conversation. I had tried to be fair to the young man both word and thought, but I could not relish the idea of my daughter in with which likely enough, before I knew more about him, and found that _more_ good and hope-giving. There but one rational thing left to do, and was to cast my on him that careth for the who loved child than I could love loved the young man too, and regarded my anxiety, and would take its cause upon himself. After had lifted heart to I at read a canto _Paradise_, and then went to bed. a conversation with my wife, in which I that she very favourably impressed with Mr. Percivale, be pardoned to the forecasting hearts of fathers mothers. As I went out for my walk the next morning, I caught sight of with whom as yet had had but communication, trimming of newer graves the churchyard. I turned in through the nearer gate, which was like a lych-gate, with seats on the sides and a in centre, but had roof. The one on other of the church was probably had no could the sea-blasts in winter. top of the wall where roof should have rested, slates to protect it from the rain. "Good-morning, I said. He turned up a wizened, old face, the very type of a gravedigger's, and with one hand on the the green mound, upon which he had been with a pair of the too long and too thin grass, touched his with other, and me a cheer
 been supposing might well
teaCh us--till we Have sUffIciEnT facTs frOm which to draw tHEm. NoW go
to bed, my child."

"Good-nigHt theN, dEAr paPA," sHe saiD, and lefT Me WITh a KiSs.

i waS nOT aLtogeTheR comforTable after ThiS cOnversation. I HAd Tried
to be fAir To the young maN boTh in woRd And THoughT, buT I couLd not
rELish thE idea of my DaUGhter fALling in LOVe With Him, which looked
likELy ENough, before I knEw more AbOUt HIM, anD foUnd that _morE_ gOod
anD Hope-givINg. tHERe wAS but one rationAl thing left TO do, And thaT
wAs tO Cast my Care oN hIM thAt careth for Us--on The Father Who lovED
my chilD More thaN even I CouLd lOve hER--aNd LovEd THe yOUnG maN Too,
And regarDeD mY anxiEty, aND WOUld tAke Its cAuse uPon himself. AftEr I
Had lIFteD up my Heart To hiM I Was at Ease, reAd a caNtO of Dante's
_ParadiSe_, anD then went To bEd. the PrEmatuRIty of a ConVerSation
wIth my wiFE, in WhICH i fOund that she was very FaVOUrAbly imprEssed
wITh mr. pErcivale, MuSt bE parDONed to The fOReCasting hEarts oF
FaThErs and mOtHers.

As i wEnt Out For my WAlk tHe next Morning, I CaughT Sight of the
sextON, with whom as yeT i hAD HaD But lIttLe communicaTion, BUsilY
triMMiNg sOMe of tHe newEr GRaVEs in the churchyard. I tUrNed in
tHrougH the nearer gatE, which was fASHIoned likE a lyCH-gATe, with
seats on tHe sidEs and a stonE Table in tHe cenTre, but haD no roof.
ThE ONe on the oTheR siDe oF thE CHuRch was roofed, bUT ProbAbLy they
hAd fOund thaT heRe nO roOf cOuLd resist tHe sea-blaStS iN wInTer. the
toP Of the walL wHerE tHe rOof shOUld havE restEd, waS sImPLy cOvered
wITh FLAt slAtEs To prOteCt It froM the RAin.

"good-morNing, CoombEs," I SAid.

HE tUrNed up a wIzened, humorouS oLd face, the vErY tyPe of a
gRAVedigger'S, and with one hand leaning oN The edge Of tHe greEn
moUnd, upon whIch He had bEen CRoppinG with a Pair oF sHeaRS The toO
LOnG anD tOo thin grasS, TOucHed hiS cAp wiTh the otHer, and bade me a
cheer
 been supposing might well 
teach us- -till  we  ha ve  suf fici ent facts from whic h to draw them. Now go 
to b ed ,  myc hi ld."
"Good- n ig h t  th en ,dea rp ap a," s hesaid, a nd left me  wi th  a kiss.

Iw as  not altog eth er comfortab leafterth isc onver sat ion.I hadt ried
t o be fair  t o  the y o ung man b ot h in  word and thought ,  b u t I could notrelish  t h ei d eaofmy daughte rfalli n g in lo v ew i t h h i m, which look ed
likely e n oug h, bef or e I knew m ore a bo u t h im, and fou nd t hat _more _ good and hop e -giving . Ther e w asbuto ne  r ati on a l t h in g l e ftto do, a nd  t hat
w as t o c a st m y c areon hi m that careth  fo r us - -on  theFathe r wh oloved 
my ch ild m or e than even I c ould  love her --a nd  lo ve d the youngman  to o,
andregarde d  my  a n x i et y, and would takeit s ca use upon  himse l f.  A f ter I
ha dlif tedu p  my h eart to  him I w as ate as e,  read a  c anto o fDan te' s
_Pa r adis e_, an d then w ent t o  bed. The prem a turity of a c o nv e r sa t ionwit h my wife,in w h ichI fo u nd  th a t she  wasve r yf avourably impressed 
w ith Mr . Per civale, mustbe pardone d t o the fo reca s ti n g hearts of
fa thers  and mothe r s.

As I  went  out for  my walkt h e next m orn ing , I  ca u g ht  sight of the s exto n,  with w hom  as yet  Ihad  ha d b ut  little c ommunica ti on ,bu sil y
tri m ming som eofth e n ewerg ravesin th e ch ur ch y ard . I tur n ed i n
th ro ug h th e n ea rer g ate, whi ch wasfashioned  li k e aly ch -gate,with
seats on  t he sides a nd  astonet a ble in t he centre, but had no r o of.
The  on e ontheother sid e o f thechu r ch was  roofe d, bu tpro b a bly t h e yhad  f ound thath e reno ro of  cou ld resi st the sea-blastsi n w inter. The
to p o f th e wa llw he r e t he roo f should have res ted, was s im p ly  covered
w i thfl at slat es to p rotec t  it fro m the rai n.

"Good -m orni n g , C oombes," I  said.
He turned up aw iz ened,  hu morous  o ldface,  the v e rytypeof a
g ra vedigg er's,  a nd withone hand leaning on the  edgeof th e g reen
moun d,u pon  which he  had  been crop pin g w ith a  pa i r ofshea r sthe too
l onga nd too th i ngra s s ,touched his c a p w ith t heo ther,andbade me a
cheer
 been_supposing might_well
teach us--till we have_sufficient facts_from_which to_draw_them. Now go
to_bed, my child."

"Good-night_then, dear papa," she_said, and left_me_with a kiss.

I was not altogether comfortable after this conversation. I had tried
to be_fair_to the_young_man_both in word and thought,_but I could not
relish the_idea of_my daughter falling in love with him, which_looked
likely_enough, before I_knew more about him, and found that _more_ good
and_hope-giving. There was but one rational_thing left to_do,_and_that
was to cast my_care on him that careth for_us--on the Father who loved
my child_more than even I could love her--and_loved the young man too,
and regarded_my anxiety, and would take_its cause_upon himself. After I
had lifted_up my heart_to him_I was at_ease, read a canto of Dante's
_Paradise_,_and then went_to bed. The prematurity of a_conversation
with_my wife, in_which_I_found that_she was very_favourably_impressed
with Mr._Percivale,_must be pardoned to the forecasting_hearts_of
fathers and mothers.

As I went out for_my walk the next_morning,_I caught sight of_the
sexton, with whom as yet_I had had but little communication,_busily
trimming some_of the_newer graves in the churchyard. I turned in
through the nearer gate,_which was fashioned like a lych-gate,_with
seats on the sides_and a_stone_table in the_centre,_but had_no roof.
The one on the other side_of the_church was roofed, but probably they
had_found that here no_roof_could resist the sea-blasts in winter._The
top of the wall where the_roof should have rested, was_simply_covered
with_flat slates to protect it_from the rain.

"Good-morning, Coombes," I said.

He_turned up a_wizened, humorous old face, the very type_of_a
gravedigger's, and with one hand leaning_on_the edge of the green
mound, upon_which_he_had been cropping with a_pair of shears the too
long and_too thin grass, touched his cap with the other,_and bade me_a
cheer