Mrs. Poyser accepted this compromise, but thought it advisable to bar and bolt to the utmost; and now, at the last moment before starting, Nancy, the dairy-maid, was closing the shutters of the house-place, although the window, lying under the immediate observation of Alick and the dogs, might have been supposed the least likely to be selected for a burglarious attempt.

The covered cart, without springs, was standing ready to carry the whole family except the men-servants.  Mr. Poyser and the grandfather sat on the seat in front, and within there was room for all the women and children; the fuller the cart the better, because then the jolting would not hurt so much, and Nancy’s broad person and thick arms were an excellent cushion to be pitched on.  But Mr. Poyser drove at no more than a walking pace, that there might be as little risk of jolting as possible on this warm day, and there was time to exchange greetings and remarks with the foot-passengers who were going the same way, specking the paths between the green meadows and the golden cornfields with bits of movable bright colour—­a scarlet waistcoat to match the poppies that nodded a little too thickly among the corn, or a dark-blue neckerchief with ends flaunting across a brand-new white smock-frock.  All Broxton and all Hayslope were to be at the Chase, and make merry there in honour of “th’ heir”; and the old men and women, who had never been so far down this side of the hill for the last twenty years, were being brought from Broxton and Hayslope in one of the farmer’s waggons, at Mr. Irwine’s suggestion.  The church-bells had struck up again now—­a last tune, before the ringers came down the hill to have their share in the festival; and before the bells had finished, other music was heard approaching, so that even Old Brown, the sober horse that was drawing Mr. Poyser’s cart, began to prick up his ears.  It was the band of the Benefit Club, which had mustered in all its glory—­that is to say, in bright-blue scarfs and blue favours, and carrying its banner with the motto, “Let brotherly love continue,” encircling a picture of a stone-pit.

The carts, of course, were not to enter the Chase.  Every one must get down at the lodges, and the vehicles must be sent back.

“Why, the Chase is like a fair a’ready,” said Mrs. Poyser, as she got down from the cart, and saw the groups scattered under the great oaks, and the boys running about in the hot sunshine to survey the tall poles surmounted by the fluttering garments that were to be the prize of the successful climbers.  “I should ha’ thought there wasna so many people i’ the two parishes.  Mercy on us!  How hot it is out o’ the shade!  Come here, Totty, else your little face ‘ull be burnt to a scratchin’!  They might ha’ cooked the dinners i’ that open space an’ saved the fires.  I shall go to Mrs. Best’s room an’ sit down.”

“Stop a bit, stop a bit,” said Mr. Poyser.  “There’s th’ waggin coming wi’ th’ old folks in’t; it’ll be such a sight as wonna come o’er again, to see ’em get down an’ walk along all together.  You remember some on ‘em i’ their prime, eh, Father?”