I walked there from a neighbouring town, having several calls to make on the way, and left my luggage to follow by the van.  In the evening, about eight o’clock, I went down to meet this conveyance, and tell the man where to deliver my bag.  I found a crowd of people in front of the inn where the van stopped, and heard the driver say, in reply to some question, “I’ve not got him, but I’ve got his bag.”

“Where is he?” said a voice.  “I don’t know,” one said, “but I saw a queer little chap go into Mrs. M—­’s house.”

“That’s the place,” said the driver; “that’s where I’m a-going to take his bag.  Come on, and let’s see if he’ll have it.”

I went in and out among the crowd, as it was dark, asking questions, and found out that they “would like to duck the fellow if they could catch him;” they “did not want any such Revivalist chap as that amongst them,” and so forth.  They were greatly excited, and wondered which road he was likely to come, for they would go to meet him.  Some one asked, “what is he like ?” One answered, “Oh, he is a rum-looking little fellow that stoops.  I should know him again anywhere.”  Hearing this, I held up my head like a soldier, in order to look as large as possible, and waited about till they dispersed.

Then I joined a young man, and, talking with him, ascertained what it was all about.  I passed the house where I was to lodge, for I saw that the people were watching the door.  I came back among them, and, pointing to the door, said, “Is that where he stops?”

“Yes,” one replied, “he is there.  The man brought his bag and left it; he is there, sure enough.”

I said, “Let us go in and see him; come along—­come!”

So saying, I made for the door and knocked, beckoning to the others to follow me; but they would not do so.  As soon as the door was opened I went in, and the landlady speedily closed it after me, saying, “I am glad you are come.  How did you manage to get here?  I have sent word to the constable to look out for you, and he is still watching somewhere.”

“Why,” I asked, “what is it all about?  What is the matter?”

“Why, some of the lads here say, that if they could catch you, they would give you a good ducking in the pond.”

“Indeed!” I said.  “Then I don’t think I will give them that pleasure tonight.”  So, sitting down by the fire, I made myself comfortable, and after supper went to bed.

In the morning, while at breakfast, I saw a number of men playing in the open space in front of the house.  Some were tossing pence, some playing at ball and other games, while many were standing about smoking, with their hands in their pockets.

“There, that’s the way they spend their Sundays in this place,” said the landlady.

After watching them from the window for a little time, I put on my hat and went out, and told them “it was time to go home and get ready for church; that would be far better,” I said, “than playing like this on Sunday.  It is a disgrace to men like you—­married men, too, with families!  It would be bad enough if you were a parcel of boys.  I am quite ashamed of you!”