Others were quietly wending their way thitherward, along the lanes and through the fields.

There they gathered about the little old church, a smiling, happy, and contented people, and waited for the Dominie, for it was their custom to meet him at the church door, and after exchanging greetings, follow him like a loving flock into their seats.
The Dominie was to preach his harvest sermon, and his flock was to join him in giving thanks to God for the bounties He had bestowed upon them.
He had, indeed, blessed them with an abundant harvest that year; and now they had come to thank Him and be joyful.

Conspicuous in the group was the little snuffy doctor, Critchel, looking happy among the people whose ills he had administered to for half a century.

On Harvest-Sunday he could kiss and caress the bright faced little children he had helped bring into the world as fondly as a young mother.

There, too, was the schoolmaster, with his ruddy face and his seedy clothes, ready to do his part in making Harvest-Sunday pass pleasantly, for indeed the crop was a matter of importance with him.