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.