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same gentle modulation of voice as when he spoke to Seth。
Gyp jumped and gave a short bark； as much as to say； “Of
course。” Poor fellow； he had not a great range of expression。
The basket was the one which on workdays held Adam’s and
Seth’s dinner； and no official； walking in procession； could look
more resolutely unconscious of all acquaintances than Gyp with
his basket； trotting at his master’s heels。
On leaving the workshop Adam locked the door； took the key
out； and carried it to the house on the other side of the woodyard。
It was a low house； with smooth grey thatch and buff walls；
looking pleasant and mellow in the evening light。 The leaded
windows were bright and speckless； and the door…stone was as
clean as a white boulder at ebb tide。 On the door…stone stood a
clean old woman； in a dark…striped linen gown； a red kerchief； and
a linen cap； talking to some speckled fowls which appeared to have
been drawn towards her by an illusory expectation of cold
potatoes or barley。 The old woman’s sight seemed to be dim； for
she did not recognise Adam till he said； “Here’s the key； Dolly； lay
it down for me in the house； will you？”
“Aye； sure； but wunna ye come in； Adam？ Miss Mary’s i’ th’
house； and Mester Burge ’ull be back anon； he’d be glad t’ ha’ ye
to supper wi’m； I’ll be’s warrand。”
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Adam Bede 18
“No； Dolly； thank you； I’m off home。 Good evening。”
Adam hastened with long strides； Gyp close to his heels； out of
the workyard； and along the highroad leading away from the
village and down to the valley。 As he reached the foot of the slope；
an elderly horseman； with his portmanteau strapped behind him；
stopped his horse when Adam had passed him； and turned round
to have another long look at the stalwart workman in paper cap；
leather breeches； and dark…blue worsted stockings。
Adam； unconscious of the admiration he was exciting； presently
struck across the fields； and now broke out into the tune which
had all day long been running in his head：
“Let all thy converse be sincere；
Thy conscience as the noonday clear；
For God’s all…seeing eye surveys
Thy secret thoughts； thy works and ways。
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Adam Bede 19
Chapter II
The Preaching
bout a quarter to seven there was an unusual appearance
Aof excitement in the village of Hayslope； and through the
whole length of its little street； from the Donnithorne
Arms to the churchyard gate； the inhabitants had evidently been
drawn out of their houses by something more than the pleasure of
lounging in the evening sunshine。 The Donnithorne Arms stood at
the entrance of the village； and a small farmyard and stackyard
which flanked it； indicating that there was a pretty take of land
attached to the inn； gave the traveller a promise of good feed for
himself and his horse； which might well console him for the
ignorance in which the weather…beaten sign left him as to the
heraldic bearings of that ancient family； the Donnithornes。 Mr。
Casson； the landlord； had been for some time standing at the door
with his hands in his pockets； balancing himself on his heels and
toes and looking towards a piece of unenclosed ground； with a
maple in the middle of it； which he knew to be the destination of
certain grave…looking men and women whom he had observed
passing at intervals。
Mr。 Casson’s person was by no means of that common type
which can be allowed to pass without description。 On a front view
it appeared to consist principally of two spheres； bearing about the
same relation to each other as the earth and the moon： that is to
say； the lower sphere might be said； at a rough guess； to be
thirteen times larger than the upper which naturally performed
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Adam Bede 20
the function of a mere satellite and tributary。 But here the
resemblance ceased； for Mr。 Casson’s head was not at all a
melancholy…looking satellite nor was it a “spotty globe；” as Milton
has irreverently called the moon； on the contrary； no head and
face could look more sleek and healthy； and its expression—which
was chiefly confined to a pair of round and ruddy cheeks； the
slight knot and interruptions forming the nose and eyes being
scarcely worth mention—was one of jolly contentment； only
tempered by that sense of personal dignity which usually made
itself felt in his attitude and bearing。 This sense of dignity could
hardly be considered excessive in a man who had been butler to
“the family” for fifteen years； and who； in his present high
position； was necessarily very much in contact with his inferiors。
How to reconcile his dignity with the satisfaction of his curiosity
by walking towards the Green was the problem that Mr。 Casson
had been revolving in his mind for the last five minutes； but when
he had partly solved it by taking his hands out of his pockets； and
thrusting them into the armholes of his waistcoat； by throwing his
head on one side； and providing himself with an air of
contemptuous indifference to whatever might fall under his notice；
his thoughts were diverted by the approach of the horseman
whom we lately saw pausing to have another look at our friend
Adam； and who now pulled up at the door of the Donnithorne
Arms。
“Take off the bridle and give him a drink； ostler；” said the
traveller to the lad in a smock…frock； who had come out of the yard
at the sound of the horse’s hoofs。
“Why； what’s up in your pretty village； landlord？” he continued；
getting down。 “There seems to be quite a stir。”
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Adam Bede 21
“It’s a Methodis’ preaching； sir； it’s been gev hout as a young
woman’s a…going to preach on the Green；” answered Mr。 Casson；
in a treble and wheezy voice； with a slightly mincing accent。 “Will
you please to step in； sir； an’ tek somethink？”
“No； I must be getting on to Rosseter。 I only want a drink for
my horse。 And what does your parson say； I wonder； to a young
woman preaching just under his nose？”
“Parson Irwine； sir； doesn’t live here； he lives at Brox’on； over
the hill there。 The parsonage here’s a tumble…down place； sir； not
fit for gentry to live in。 He comes here to preach of a Sunday
afternoon； sir； an’ puts up his hoss here。 It’s a grey cob； sir； an’ he
sets great store by’t。 He’s allays put up his hoss here； sir； iver since
before I hed the Donnithorne Arms。 I’m not this countryman； you
may tell by my tongue； sir。 They’re cur’ous talkers i’ this country；
sir； the gentry’s hard work to hunderstand ’em。 I was brought hup
among the gentry； sir； an’ got the turn o’ their tongue when I was a
bye。 Why； what do you think the folks here says for ‘hevn’t you？’—
the gentry； you know； says； ‘hevn’t you’—well； the people about
here says ‘hanna yey。’ It’s what they call the dileck as is spoke
hereabout； sir。 That’s what I’ve heard Squire Donnithorne say
many a time； it’s the dileck； says he。”
“Aye； aye；” said the stranger； smiling。 “I know