their mouths in a sound of amazement, as much as to say, "What a
terrible thing! What a wonderful and a mighty man!"

"I advise you to come," persuaded his neighbour.

"Never! God is my judge, never!" cried Festus Clasby.

Again the tinkers clicked their tongues, looked at each other in wonder.

"You will be thankful you brought your life out of this," said the
neighbour. "Let it not be said of you on the countryside that you were
seen wrangling with the tinkers in this town."

"Shame! Shame! Shame!" broke out like a shocked murmur among the
attentive tinkers.

Festus Clasby faced his audience in all his splendid proportions. Never
was he seen so moved. Never had such a great passion seized him. The
soft tones of his eyes were no longer soft. They shone in fiery wroth.
"I will at least have that which I bought twice over!" he cried. "I will
have my tin can!"

Immediately the group of tinkers broke up in the greatest disorder.
Hoarse cries broke out among them. They behaved like people upon whom
some fearful doom had been suddenly pronounced. The old women threw
themselves about, racked with pain and terror. They beat their hands
together, threw wild arms in despairing gestures to the sky, raising a
harrowing lamentation. The men growled in sullen gutturals. The
youngsters knelt on the road, giving out the wild beagle-like howl.
Voices cried above the uproar: "Where is it? Where is the Can with the