A man rode into the church upon an ass, with his face turned towards the tail, and as many old hats piled on his head as he could possibly carry.

He began urging his beast round the aisles, and the screams, and cries, and laughter of the congregation entirely drowned all sound of Mr.Redhead's voice, and, I believe, he was obliged to desist.
Hitherto they had not proceeded to anything like personal violence; but on the third Sunday they must have been greatly irritated at seeing Mr.
Redhead, determined to brave their will, ride up the village street, accompanied by several gentlemen from Bradford.

They put up their horses at the Black Bull--the little inn close upon the churchyard, for the convenience of arvills as well as for other purposes--and went into church.

On this the people followed, with a chimney-sweeper, whom they had employed to clean the chimneys of some out-buildings belonging to the church that very morning, and afterward plied with drink till he was in a state of solemn intoxication.

They placed him right before the reading- desk, where his blackened face nodded a drunken, stupid assent to all that Mr.Redhead said.