“But that’s closed.”
“Closed!” said Will in fiery accents. “I shan’t even close it after us.”
“I count they won’t mind you in your Parlyment coat, but——”
“Go along, dad.” And Will pushed the old man into Plashy Walk and strode forward like a village Hampden. Within a minute he missed Caleb, and looking back, saw him hurrying back from the gate.
“Must allus shut ga-aites!” he apologized with his rising accent.
“I’ll burn it next time,” said Will. “Why, this saves us a mile.”
“But we’ll miss the Early Sarvicers,” complained Caleb. “You’ve forgot how they walk out to meet the Brethren, what come footin’ it from afar, and have an extry sarvice at a half-way house back o’ Long Bradmarsh.”
“Surely the regular services will be enough.”
“But ’tis noice to git an extry snack,” said Caleb wistfully. “Many’s the Sunday Oi’ve had foive sarvices.” He sighed voluptuously.
“Well, better luck next time,” said Will lightly.