‘Everybody, and their fathers afore ’em.’ As Jerry said this, he turned, and leaning over the back of his seat, peered at the stranger. Then he put a question uneasily: ‘You never ’longed to these parts, sir?’
‘No, I do not exactly belong to these parts; but I have been here before.’
‘Ah—thought you couldn’t have ’longed here, or I’d have known you, though it was ever so many years gone by,’ said old Jerry, much relieved at this proof that his memory had not failed him. ‘Asking pardon, sir, I didn’t get right hold of your name. Was it Oakem, sir?’
‘Something of that kind,’ said the stranger, smiling at the mistake. ‘Beecham is the name.’
‘Beecham,’ mumbled Jerry, repeating the name several times and trying to associate it with some family of the district. ‘Don’t know any one of that name here away. May-happen your friends are called by another.’
‘I have no friends of that name here.’
‘Hope it ain’t makin’ too bold, sir, but may-happen you’re a-goin’ to stay with some of the Kingshope families?’
‘I am going to stay at the King’s Head, for a few days,’ Mr Beecham replied, good-naturedly amused by Jerry’s inquisitiveness; but wishing to divert his garrulity into another channel, he put a question in turn: ‘Shall we be in time for the Harvest Service in the church to-day?’
‘Time and to spare—barrin’ th’ old mare’s tantrums, and she don’t try them on with me. You’ll see the whole county at the church to-day, sir. Parson’s got it turned into a reg’lar holiday, and there’s been mighty fine goings-on a-deckin’ the old place up. Meetings morn and even, and a deal more courtin’ nor prayin’, is what I says. Hows’ever it’s to be a rare thanksgivin’ time this un, and the best of it is there’s some’at to be thankful for.’
Jerry nodded confidentially to the stranger, as if he were letting him into a secret.