everything decays, who think of such things as these - who think of

them properly, I mean. You have been into the church?'

I am going there now,' the child replied.

There's an old well there,' said the sexton, 'right underneath the

belfry; a deep, dark, echoing well. Forty year ago, you had only to let

down the bucket till the first knot in the rope was free of the windlass,

and you heard it splashing in the cold dull water. By little and little

the water fell away, so that in ten year after that, a second knot was

made, and you must unwind so much rope, or the bucket swung tight

and empty at the end. In ten years' time, the water fell again, and a

third knot was made. In ten years more, the well dried up; and now, if

you lower the bucket till your arms are tired, and let out nearly all the

cord, you'll hear it, of a sudden, clanking and rattling on the ground

below; with a sound of being so deep and so far down, that your heart

leaps into your mouth, and you start away as if you were falling in.'

A dreadful place to come on in the dark!' exclaimed the child, who

had followed the old man's looks and words until she seemed to stand

upon its brink.

What is it but a grave!' said the sexton. 'What else! And which of our

old folks, knowing all this, thought, as the spring subsided, of their

own failing strength, and lessening life? Not one!'

Are you very old yourself?' asked the child, involuntarily.

I shall be seventy-nine - next summer.'

You still work when you are well?'

Work! To be sure. You shall see my gardens hereabout. Look at the

window there. I made, and have kept, that plot of ground entirely with

my own hands. By this time next year I shall hardly see the sky, the

boughs will have grown so thick. I have my winter work at night

besides.'

He opened, as he spoke, a cupboard close to where he sat, and

produced some miniature boxes, carved in a homely manner and

made of old wood.

'Some gentlefolks who are fond of ancient days, and what belongs to

them,' he said, 'like to buy these keepsakes from our church and

ruins. Sometimes, I make them of scraps of oak, that turn up here

and there; sometimes of bits of coffins which the vaults have long

preserved. See here - this is a little chest of the last kind, clasped at

the edges with fragments of brass plates that had writing on 'em once,

The Old Curiosity Shop