The Martyrdom of Madeline

ing their seats round the square deal table, which was spread with a clean

n contentedly. The sun streaming through the back window caressed her bright cheek and dusty hair, and made her think of the glad light which

le Luke dropped his knife and for

prise in his mild blue eyes. 'Dead men is dead as nails

her at this brief assurance, and, with a glance of meaning at Uncle Luke,

hrown open, and the latter was seen in all its sepulchral splendour. Uncles Mark and Luke passed reverently in, and closed the door; but soon Madeline w

of the family Bible, while Uncle Luke, with a face as grave as a judge, was repeating in an undertone the words of an Easter hymn. All was quiet and still in the sepulchral chamber; but through the closed door they could distinctly hear the rattling of dishes, the clangour

al very rough-looking figures in high hats and rude Sunday suits. Each as he entered doffed his hat, with a nod of solemn greeting to Uncles Mar

rk and Luke were lowly members. He was a person of some importance and some property, but, having no wider field in which to practise his feats of piety, he was content

the sofa, covered his face with large red hands, and sank into deep silence. This manoeuvre was followed by all the others present except Madeline. Each covered his face w

his face and came up refreshed;

said, addressing Uncle

rangeways, Brother Smith, Brother Hornblower, Brother Billy Horn-blower, Brother Luke Peartree, a

the kitchen door, through which came at in

ill obdurate. Will she not join our little gather

uncomfortable, and jerked his t

a heap o' worrit during the week, and the fact is, sh

n's heavy br

other, you are the head of your own house, and I l

form of low groans and ejaculations from his companions-who had all again (to resume a former metaphor) retired under water. Emerging once more, and receiv

at to the Ci

e, though there

ream lies the

ght, but we'll

or

at, mates! p

rises-there's

up to the C

ely, we'll pi

e lights of th

ights, thro' the

rves of the C

urns, we must

or

at, mates! p

rises-there's

up to the C

ely, we'll pi

Mark. The hymn ceased, and Brother Brown delivered a short sermon, founded on the text, 'Those that go dow

otations, addressed the Brethren, taking for his theme the sacred character of the day, and gre

e worthy with a very weatherbeaten face and a very weather wise sort of orato

, all shook hands, and the conv

asked Brother Strangeways. 'It be high water at f

mate?' asked

way Southam,'

the old woman till Monday, and then I go

other Strangeway

ther Mark, and forthwith t

these, each of which had special reference to the forlorn spiritual condition of a person of the other sex, he proceeded to pin them on the parlour walls-one over the Shepherdess on the mantelpiece, a second under the picture of the Prodigal Son, a third under

ed up to the elbow, entered the precincts of the chamber. Scorn was in every lineament of h

Mark Peartree, to sit still and see him do it. Tracts agin your own wedd

t each of the papers in success

, gruffly, 'read'em-they'r

and r

Brown so much about. Why, while we was a-singing, I heard you clattering the dishes like a barge a-heaving anchor, and I see Brother Brown looking at the door

mily, what with you and Uncle Luke. Look at the mark o' the dirty muddy feet o

join us-it'd do yo

omestic disagreement; while Uncle Mark remained in the parlour, and showed the pictures in Foxe's 'Book of Martyrs'-a precious tome of tre

said, 'do they eve

en then only the wery bad ones-them as hates their neighb

y essence of gentleness and good nature, but who was made utterly unre