"Cut the grass! He, he!" This was a little joke between the vicar and the clerk, and Jimmy never failed to laugh at the sarcasm (it had been so long since there had been a blade of grass to cut). "Well, well, let his punishment fall on his own hid!" said Jimmy piously.
"Jimmy," said the vicar, quite seriously this time, "if I wasn't a parson, I should tell you you're a regular old fool. There's a proverb somewhere (you won't find it in the Bible, so don't think you've caught me tripping) that says, 'God helps those who help themselves;' and do you honestly tell me that if we kneel down every Sunday and pray for rain, and don't accept every chance of getting good water that God puts in our way, that He will pay any heed to us? Must we have it in our own special way, or not at all? Jimmy, Jimmy, your argument won't hold water; you'd better come with me and see how it's done."
But Jimmy scorned the suggestion, and went off mumbling about judgements to come, and doers of iniquities, and witches, and soothsayers, till he had grumbled himself out of the churchyard and up the lane till he reached his own door.
He found the house empty. Milly had been smitten with the quest, and had gone out to the dowser. Jimmy could hardly believe his ears when the next door neighbour—a lame woman who "would have gone on her own account if she could," as she stoutly protested when Jimmy lifted up his voice in a gabble of invective—informed him that Milly had asked her to see to the kettle, and the cake in the oven, while she went off to see the water found. "And small blame, too! Who wouldn't see a miracle when they could in these days when nothing happened that—-"
"There's no miracle at all about it," grumbled Jimmy, turning round and arguing the other way when he found himself worsted.
"Well, then, I don't see that you have no call to make such a to-due about it. If that be so as you say jest ordinary tappin', there can't be no witchcraft nor Satan's work about it. Bless me, if I'd a got your legs I'd have been there long ago."
And so it happened that before many minutes were over Jimmy's curiosity had overcome his scruples, and he became one of the fast-increasing crowd.
CHAPTER VI.
PUBLIC OPINION ON THE BRIDGE
The sun was setting, and the long shadows were slanting into the tired faces of the crowd, before the dowser considered he had satisfactorily accomplished his self-imposed task. He had made his circuit of the village, and come back again to the common. He had found and marked three springs: two were, he said, at a considerable depth, some hundred or more feet below the surface; and one, the most conveniently-placed for those who were to benefit by it, was on the edge of the common, perhaps three or four hundred yards from the church. When he and his following returned after their long and successful quest, they found motor car standing at the Wild Swan, puffing and snorting in the impatient way that motors do. The driver, who was most unmistakably out of patience, called out to him to hurry, or "they would not get to Ipswich that night;" and after a brief adieu to Mr. Barlow, and a comprehensive word to the assemblage, he climbed into the car and disappeared in a cloud of dust.