CHAPTER VIII.
The Church--The Aristocratical Pew--Days of Yore--The Clergyman--"In What Would a Man be Profited ?" When two days had passed, Sunday came; I breakfasted by myself in the solitary dingle; and then, having set things a little to rights, I ascended to Mr.Petulengro's encampment.

I could hear church-bells ringing around in the distance, appearing to say, "Come to church, come to church," as clearly as it was possible for church-bells to say.

I found Mr.Petulengro seated by the door of his tent, smoking his pipe, in rather an ungenteel undress.

"Well, Jasper," said I, "are you ready to go to church?
for if you are, I am ready to accompany you." "I am not ready, brother," said Mr.Petulengro, "nor is my wife; the church, too, to which we shall go is three miles off; so it is of no use to think of going there this morning, as the service would be three-quarters over before we got there; if, however, you are disposed to go in the afternoon, we are your people." Thereupon I returned to my dingle, where I passed several hours in conning the Welsh Bible, which the preacher, Peter Williams, had given me.
At last I gave over reading, took a slight refreshment, and was about to emerge from the dingle, when I heard the voice of Mr.Petulengro calling me.

I went up again to the encampment, where I found Mr.Petulengro, his wife, and Tawno Chikno, ready to proceed to church.