the Reverend Ebenezer Holman, however.  He gave us a nod as we entered the stubble-field; and I think he would have come to meet us but that he was in the middle of giving some directions to his men.  I could see that Phillis was built more after his type than her mother’s.  He, like his daughter, was largely made, and of a fair, ruddy complexion, whereas hers was brilliant and delicate.  His hair had been yellow or sandy, but now was grizzled.  Yet his grey hairs betokened no failure in strength.  I never saw a more powerful man—­deep chest, lean flanks, well-planted head.  By this time we were nearly up to him; and he interrupted himself and stepped forwards; holding out his hand to me, but addressing Phillis.

’Well, my lass, this is cousin Manning, I suppose.  Wait a minute, young man, and I’ll put on my coat, and give you a decorous and formal welcome.  But—­Ned Hall, there ought to be a water-furrow across this land:  it’s a nasty, stiff, clayey, dauby bit of ground, and thou and I must fall to, come next Monday—­I beg your pardon, cousin Manning—­and there’s old Jem’s cottage wants a bit of thatch; you can do that job tomorrow while I am busy.’  Then, suddenly changing the tone of his deep bass voice to an odd suggestion of chapels and preachers, he added.  ’Now, I will give out the psalm, “Come all harmonious tongues”, to be sung to “Mount Ephraim” tune.’

He lifted his spade in his hand, and began to beat time with it; the two labourers seemed to know both words and music, though I did not; and so did Phillis:  her rich voice followed her father’s as he set the tune; and the men came in with more uncertainty, but still harmoniously.  Phillis looked at me once or twice with a little surprise at my silence; but I did not know the words.  There we five stood, bareheaded, excepting Phillis, in the tawny stubble-field, from which all the shocks of corn had not yet been carried—­a dark wood on one side, where the woodpigeons were cooing; blue distance seen through the ash-trees on the other.  Somehow, I think that if I had known the words, and could have sung, my throat would have been choked up by the feeling of the unaccustomed scene.

The hymn was ended, and the men had drawn off before I could stir.  I saw the minister beginning to put on his coat, and looking at me with friendly inspection in his gaze, before I could rouse myself.

’I dare say you railway gentlemen don’t wind up the day with singing a psalm together,’ said he; ’but it is not a bad practice—­not a bad practice.  We have had it a bit earlier to-day for hospitality’s sake—­that’s all.’