“Ay,” resumed the tranter, “’twas on a White Tuesday when I committed it. Mellstock Club walked the same day, and we new-married folk went a-gaying round the parish behind ’em. Everybody used to wear something white at Whitsuntide in them days. My sonnies, I’ve got the very white trousers that I wore, at home in box now. Ha’n’t I, Ann?”
“You had till I cut ’em up for Jimmy,” said Mrs. Dewy.
“And we ought, by rights, after doing this parish, to go round Higher and Lower Mellstock, and call at Viney’s, and so work our way hither again across He’th,” said Mr. Penny, recovering scent of the matter in hand. “Dairyman Viney is a very respectable man, and so is Farmer Kex, and we ought to show ourselves to them.”
“True,” said the tranter, “we ought to go round Mellstock to do the thing well. We shall form a very striking object walking along in rotation, good-now, neighbours?”
“That we shall: a proper pretty sight for the nation,” said Mrs. Penny.
“Hullo!” said the tranter, suddenly catching sight of a singular human figure standing in the doorway, and wearing a long smock-frock of pillow-case cut and of snowy whiteness. “Why, Leaf! whatever dost thou do here?”
“I’ve come to know if so be I can come to the wedding—hee-hee!” said Leaf in a voice of timidity.
“Now, Leaf,” said the tranter reproachfully, “you know we don’t want ’ee here to-day: we’ve got no room for ye, Leaf.”
“Thomas Leaf, Thomas Leaf, fie upon ye for prying!” said old William.
“I know I’ve got no head, but I thought, if I washed and put on a clane shirt and smock-frock, I might just call,” said Leaf, turning away disappointed and trembling.