"Look at the watchful eye o' Justice.

How well she sleeps in this peaceful valley! Sometimes ye can hardly wake her up at all, at all." He put his hand on the deacon's shoulder and gave him a little shake.
"Awake, ye limb o' the law," he demanded.

"Prayer is better than sleep." The deacon arose and stretched himself and cleared his throat and assumed an air of alertness and said it was a fine morning, which it was not, the sky being overcast and the air dank and chilly.

He removed his greatcoat and threw it on the stoop saying: "Deacon, you lay there.

From now on I'm constable and ready for any act that may be necessary to maintain the law.