Joe thought to himself, “Come, come, we are getting back to our own menseful way again.”  But he would not stir a peg till he heard what he was to have for getting the stones again; for Joe knew he would never hear the last of it, if he came home empty-handed.  They made it all right very soon, however; and the old man went up-stairs, and brought down the two leather bags, and gave them to Joe to carry, as if nothing had happened; and off they started, very like as they did before.

The Skeal-Hill folk all gathered together about the door to look after them, as if they had been a show; but they neither of them minded for that, but walked away as thick as inkle-weavers till they got to the foot of our great meadow, where the stones were all lying just as Joe had turned them out of the bags, only rather grown over with grass.  And as Joe picked them up one by one, and handed them to the old jolly-jist, it did Joe’s heart good to see how pleased he looked.  He wiped them on his coat-cuff, and wet them, and glowered at them through his spectacles, as if they were something good to eat, and he was very hungry; and then he packed them away into the bags till they were both chock full again.

Well, the bargain was, that Joe should carry them back to Skeal-Hill; so back they put, the jolly-jist watching his bags all the way, as if they were full of golden guineas, and our Joe a thief.  When they got there, he made Joe take them right into the parlor; and the first thing he did was to call for some red wax and a light, and he clapped a great splatch of a seal on either bag; and then he looked at Joe, and gave a little grunt of a laugh, and a smartish wag of the head, as much as to say, “Do it again, Joe, if you can.”  But after that he said, “Here, Joe, is five shillings for restoring my speciments, and here is another five shillings for showing me a speciment of human nature that I did not believe in until this day.” [This story is told of Professor Sedgwick in broad patois by Alexander Craig Gibson, F.S.A.]

“That is good,” cried the squire, clapping his knee emphatically.  “It was like the professor, and it was like Joe Bulteel.  The story does them both credit.  I am glad I heard it.  Alice, fill our glasses again.”  Then he stood up, and looked around with a smile.

“God’s blessing on this house, and on all beneath its roof-tree!

“Wife and children, a merry Christmas to you!

“Friends and serving hands, a merry Christmas to you!”

CHAPTER VII.

WOOING AND WEDDING.

     “She was made for him,—­a special providence in his behalf.”

     “Like to like,—­and yet love may be dear bought.”

     “In time comes she whom Fate sends.”

Until after Twelfth Night the Christmas festivities were continued; but if the truth had been admitted, the cumbrous ceremonials, the excessive eating and visiting, would have been pronounced by every one very tiresome.  Julius found it particularly so, for the festival had no roots in his boyhood’s heart; and he did not include it in his dreams of pre-existence.