What became of the old brickmakers no one knew.

Who ever sees a worn-out aged navvie?
Mr.Crawley, ever since his first coming into Hogglestock, had been very busy among these brickmakers, and by no means without success.
Indeed the farmers had quarrelled with him because the brickmakers had so crowded the narrow parish church, as to leave but scant room for decent people.

"Doo they folk pay tithes?
That's what I want 'un to tell me ?" argued one farmer,--not altogether unnaturally, believing as he did that Mr.Crawley was paid by tithes out of his own pocket.

But Mr.Crawley had done his best to make the brickmakers welcome at the church, scandalizing the farmers by causing them to sit or stand in any portion of the church which was hitherto unappropriated.

He had been constant in his personal visits to them, and had felt himself to be more a St.Paul with them than with any other of his neighbours around him.
It was a cold morning, but the rain of the preceding evening had given way to frost, and the air, though sharp, was dry.