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On
a
ledge
in
the
fuelhouse
stood
three
tall
rushlights
and
by
the
light
of
them
seven
or
eight
lads
were
marching
about
,
haranguing
,
and
confusing
each
other
,
in
endeavours
to
perfect
themselves
in
the
play
.
Humphrey
and
Sam
,
the
furze
-
and
turf
-
cutters
,
were
there
looking
on
,
so
also
was
Timothy
Fairway
,
who
leant
against
the
wall
and
prompted
the
boys
from
memory
,
interspersing
among
the
set
words
remarks
and
anecdotes
of
the
superior
days
when
he
and
others
were
the
Egdon
mummers
-
elect
that
these
lads
were
now
.
“
Well
,
ye
be
as
well
up
to
it
as
ever
ye
will
be
,
”
he
said
.
“
Not
that
such
mumming
would
have
passed
in
our
time
.
Harry
as
the
Saracen
should
strut
a
bit
more
,
and
John
needn
’
t
holler
his
inside
out
.
Beyond
that
perhaps
you
’
ll
do
.
Have
you
got
all
your
clothes
ready
?
”
“
We
shall
by
Monday
.
”
“
Your
first
outing
will
be
Monday
night
,
I
suppose
?
”
“
Yes
.
At
Mrs
.
Yeobright
’
s
.
”
“
Oh
,
Mrs
.
Yeobright
’
s
.
What
makes
her
want
to
see
ye
?
I
should
think
a
middle
-
aged
woman
was
tired
of
mumming
.
”
“
She
’
s
got
up
a
bit
of
a
party
,
because
’
tis
the
first
Christmas
that
her
son
Clym
has
been
home
for
a
long
time
.
”
“
To
be
sure
,
to
be
sure
—
her
party
!
I
am
going
myself
.
I
almost
forgot
it
,
upon
my
life
.
”
Eustacia
’
s
face
flagged
.
There
was
to
be
a
party
at
the
Yeobrights
’
;
she
,
naturally
,
had
nothing
to
do
with
it
.
She
was
a
stranger
to
all
such
local
gatherings
,
and
had
always
held
them
as
scarcely
appertaining
to
her
sphere
.
But
had
she
been
going
,
what
an
opportunity
would
have
been
afforded
her
of
seeing
the
man
whose
influence
was
penetrating
her
like
summer
sun
!
To
increase
that
influence
was
coveted
excitement
;
to
cast
it
off
might
be
to
regain
serenity
;
to
leave
it
as
it
stood
was
tantalizing
.
