"This sexton-guy," he said anxiously, "he don't play the ponies, ever, I wouldn't suppose?" "No more often than he commits murder or goes to sleep in church," I smiled.

But a very curious story, in which a vampire resuscitation of Crooke the sexton figures, may throw a light upon this part of the tale.

Some keep the Sabbath in surplice; I just wear my wings, And instead of tolling the bell for church, Our little sexton sings.

Now it remains to try whether you be a man of good utterance, that is, whether you can ask for the strayed heifer with the white face, as also chide the boys in the belfry, and bid the sexton whip out the dogs.

What next? Nor let the priest be wanting With his hollow eyes of prayer, While the sexton wrenches, panting, The stone from the dismal stair.