“Preliminaries be damned, sir,” cried Uncle Ben, losing his temper.  “What preliminaries were there when I was robbed; I should like to know?  Robbed in this parish as I can prove, to the eternal disgrace of Oare and the scandal of all England.  And I hold this parish to answer for it, sir; this parish shall make it good, being a nest of foul thieves as it is; ay, farmers, and yeomen, and all of you.  I will beggar every man in this parish, if they be not beggars already, ay, and sell your old church up before your eyes, but what I will have back my tarlatan, time-piece, saddle, and dove-tailed nag.”

Mother looked at me, and I looked at Farmer Snowe, and we all were sorry for Master Huckaback, putting our hands up one to another, that nobody should browbeat him; because we all knew what our parish was, and none the worse for strong language, however rich the man might be.  But Uncle Ben took it in a different way.  He thought that we all were afraid of him, and that Oare parish was but as Moab or Edom, for him to cast his shoe over.

“Nephew Jack,” he cried, looking at me when I was thinking what to say, and finding only emptiness, “you are a heavy lout, sir; a bumpkin, a clodhopper; and I shall leave you nothing, unless it be my boots to grease.”

“Well, uncle,” I made answer, “I will grease your boots all the same for that, so long as you be our guest, sir.”

Now, that answer, made without a thought, stood me for two thousand pounds, as you shall see, by-and-by, perhaps.

“As for the parish,” my mother cried, being too hard set to contain herself, “the parish can defend itself, and we may leave it to do so.  But our Jack is not like that, sir; and I will not have him spoken of.  Leave him indeed!  Who wants you to do more than to leave him alone, sir; as he might have done you the other night; and as no one else would have dared to do.  And after that, to think so meanly of me, and of my children!”

“Hoity, toity, Sarah!  Your children, I suppose, are the same as other people’s.”

“That they are not; and never will be; and you ought to know it, Uncle Reuben, if any one in the world ought.  Other people’s children!”

“Well, well!” Uncle Reuben answered, “I know very little of children; except my little Ruth, and she is nothing wonderful.”

“I never said that my children were wonderful Uncle Ben; nor did I ever think it.  But as for being good—­”

Here mother fetched out her handkerchief, being overcome by our goodness; and I told her, with my hand to my mouth, not to notice him; though he might be worth ten thousand times ten thousand pounds.

But Farmer Snowe came forward now, for he had some sense sometimes; and he thought it was high time for him to say a word for the parish.

“Maister Huckaback,” he began, pointing with his pipe at him, the end that was done in sealing-wax, “tooching of what you was plaized to zay ’bout this here parish, and no oother, mind me no oother parish but thees, I use the vreedom, zur, for to tell ’e, that thee be a laiar.”