Billy was leaning against the porch buttress and taking alms if any offered them.
"Then it's not living it will be, my lord; it's lingering," said this old Bartimeus.
And Jabez Gawne, the sleek little tailor, had the Bishop's salutation as he passed on in the ancient cloak with many buttons.
"A merry Christmas to you, Jabez, and a good New Year."
"Aw, 'deed, my lord," said Jabez, with a face as long as a fiddle, "if the New Year's no better than the ould one, what with quiet times and high rents and the children's schooling, it's going on the houses I'll be, middlin' safe."
"Nay, nay, remember our old saying, Jabez: The greater the calm the nearer the south wind."
As the Bishop was turning in at the vestry door, blind Kerry and her husband Hommy passed him, and he hailed them as he had hailed the others.
"I'm taking joy to see you so hearty, my lord," said the blind woman.
"Yes, I'm well, on the whole, thank God!" said the Bishop; "and how are you, Kerry?"
"I'm in, my lord—I'm in; but distracted mortal with the sights. Och, sir, it's allis the sights, and the sights, and the sights; and it's Mastha Dan that's in them still. This morning, bless ye, when I woke, what should it be, behould ye, but a company of great ones from the big house itself, going down to the churchyard with lanterns. Aw, 'deed it was, sir, my lord, begging your pardon, though it's like enough you'll think it's wake and a kind of silly, as the sayin' is."