CHAPTER XIX.

OLD STANDARDS. THE OLDEST INHABITANT.

OLD STANDARDS.

HE writings of Cooper, Mozley, Stark, and "Old Times" bring before us so many of the most conspicuous characters who went to make up the different classes of Gainsburgh society in the first half of the Nineteenth Century that we can glean from their pages a very fair estimate of what life was like in Gainsburgh, before the days when railways began to double the speed, and halve the tranquillity of existence. Some of these "Old Standards" are far away, but most of them lie in the Parish Churchyard. There we will interview them, calling each before us for a brief and hasty glance, and photographing them, so to speak, singly or in groups, before we let them pass into oblivion.

But we shall need, like the great Florentine, some 66 courteous Mantuan to be our cicerone, and who shall we find more suitable than the old Parish Clerk, Cain Barnes, who knew most of the denizens of our Purgatorio well, and who may be said to have conducted thither two whole generations of them? A fine old man is Cain, with his knee-breeches, and his long churchwarden pipe. Full many a time his sonorous Amen echoed from the old Church roof, ere that final day when they said it by his grave. Everyone knows what the Churchyard is like above ground, but he knows the under side, for he has been down his three to six feet into every yard of it. Surely none better than Cain Barnes to identify the by-gone inhabitants of Gainsburgh! Nay! He shall speak for himself.

"That blind old soldier is Thomas Chatterton. His sightless eyeballs once gazed upon the Pyramids, and he has endless stories of Wellington and Boney for the lads and lasses. Often and often has Tommy Cooper sat upon his knee.

"Yonder is old Rollett, the sailmaker, who went round the world with Captain Cook, and has seen mermaids and sea-serpents innumerable. With him is Matthew Hardcastle, fellow sailor with the Duke of Clarence, who gave him a pension on coming to the Throne. And there is Black Tommy, the redeemed slave, who used to hawk matches in the villages.

"Bob Shaw we do not find. With his thieving gang he robbed the Trent-side warehouses so often that at last they transported him to Botany Bay, where his descendants, we hope, follow other occupations.

"Bill Sleight does not seem quite comfortable yet. He is always trying to blow something from his shoulder, saying "Get off, get off!" and the neighbours whisper that it is the Devil who keeps perching there!

"Johnny Maw is very much at home in the Churchyard. A Ghost accosted him in Little Church Lane, but he was equal to the occasion. Up went his stick, and he cried "Ger into thy grave again! What art doing out at this time o'night?" A whole legion of Churchyard Ghosts would not scare Johnny.

"But stay! Hear are the real Gentlefolks, the Aristocracy! Two little groups of them, guardians of the body and the soul. The fine old gentleman, with powdered head and pigtail, gold headed cane, and stately bearing, is Doctor Gervase Parnell, kind-hearted and dignified. With him is Dr. Peacock, memorable for philanthropy, a noble old gentleman. That other, equally noble in appearance, with knee-breechés and gaiters, and lowcrowned hat, is Dr. Jepson. Dr. Cook, too, is in this group, not remarkable for stature, but famous, as you see, for his tremendous shirt collar, almost covering his ears; and Dr. Lowe, standing a little out of sight. The last of the medical men is Dr. Goetze, whose brass plate "Surgeon and Apothecary" was taken by thirsty sailors for a publichouse sign," the Sturgeon and

Porcupine." A noble group, this of the doctors, philanthropists, patient and gentle to the poor, writing off their accounts for many a widow who can ill afford to pay, and never sending in their bill to the old Parish Clerk !

"The other group are Clergy, Vicars and Curates of Gainsburgh. They love the grey old walls, within which they have so often reproved, rebuked, exhorted, with all longsuffering and doctrine, but they are a migratory class. Several we shall not

see.

"Parson Urquhart's features are indistinct. Mr. Fanshaw Middleton, his curate, is not here. They promoted him to S. Pancras, and afterwards made him Bishop of Calcutta, where he lived a devoted life. You may see his monument in S. Paul's Cathedral, confirming a couple of young native converts.

"Dr. Sampson, another curate, lies far away. He sighed in vain for Miss Anne Nettleship, gave up his naval chaplaincy for sea-sickness, went to the Ganges to study the literature of Ormuz and of Ind, and returned, a lonely bachelor, to die at Bath, where they buried him under the glorious shadows of the Abbey Church.

"But here is Parson Fothergill, a fine representative o the Church of England. "We all," said Cooper, "We all," said Cooper, "esteemed Dr Parnell and Parson Fothergill, with their grand powdered heads and stately bearing, to be the two most veritable and genuine gentlemen in Gainsburgh."

"Elsewhere is Parson Beckett, "with his good figure, fine abilities, excellent intentions, and love for astrology and metempsychosis"; "the singularly handsome and reverend Mr. Bird"; and "Mr. Clements, so highly and warmly appreciated by his parishioners."

"The merchants are so numerous that we can only mention the names of a few. Mr. Sandars is still represented in the town. Others are Messrs. Furley, Etherington, Torr, Morehouse, Flower, Barnard, Garfitt, Dealtry, Smith, Hall, Brightmore, Mercer, Sharpe, Metcalfe, Wright, and Maw. Clearest among these we distinguish the homely figure of Matthew Sooby, "Edicashon ! " says Matthew, "hed I had one, I should'nt a' been worth a