CHAPTER XXIX. THE STORY OF THE GOBLINS WHO STOLE A SEXTON
'In an old abbey town, down in this part of the country, a long, longwhile ago--so long, that the story must be a true one, because ourgreat-grandfathers implicitly believed it--there officiated as sextonand grave-digger in the churchyard, one Gabriel Grub. It by no meansfollows that because a man is a sexton, and constantly surrounded by theemblems of mortality, therefore he should be a morose and melancholyman; your undertakers are the merriest fellows in the world; and I oncehad the honour of being on intimate terms with a mute, who in privatelife, and off duty, was as comical and jocose a little fellow as everchirped out a devil-may-care song, without a hitch in his memory, ordrained off a good stiff glass without stopping for breath. Butnotwithstanding these precedents to the contrary, Gabriel Grub was anill-conditioned, cross-grained, surly fellow--a morose and lonely man,who consorted with nobody but himself, and an old wicker bottle whichfitted into his large deep waistcoat pocket--and who eyed each merryface, as it passed him by, with such a deep scowl of malice and ill-humour, as it was difficult to meet without feeling something the worsefor.
'A little before twilight, one Christmas Eve, Gabriel shouldered hisspade, lighted his lantern, and betook himself towards the oldchurchyard; for he had got a grave to finish by next morning, and,feeling very low, he thought it might raise his spirits, perhaps, if hewent on with his work at once. As he went his way, up the ancientstreet, he saw the cheerful light of the blazing fires gleam through theold casements, and heard the loud laugh and the cheerful shouts of thosewho were assembled around them; he marked the bustling preparations fornext day's cheer, and smelled the numerous savoury odours consequentthereupon, as they steamed up from the kitchen windows in clouds. Allthis was gall and wormwood to the heart of Gabriel Grub; and when groupsof children bounded out of the houses, tripped across the road, and weremet, before they could knock at the opposite door, by half a dozencurly-headed little rascals who crowded round them as they flockedupstairs to spend the evening in their Christmas games, Gabriel smiledgrimly, and clutched the handle of his spade with a firmer grasp, as hethought of measles, scarlet fever, thrush, whooping-cough, and a goodmany other sources of consolation besides.
'In this happy frame of mind, Gabriel strode along, returning a short,sullen growl to the good-humoured greetings of such of his neighbours asnow and then passed him, until he turned into the dark lane which led tothe churchyard. Now, Gabriel had been looking forward to reaching thedark lane, because it was, generally speaking, a nice, gloomy, mournfulplace, into which the townspeople did not much care to go, except inbroad daylight, and when the sun was shining; consequently, he was not alittle indignant to hear a young urchin roaring out some jolly songabout a merry Christmas, in this very sanctuary which had been calledCoffin Lane ever since the days of the old abbey, and the time of theshaven-headed monks. As Gabriel walked on, and the voice drew nearer, hefound it proceeded from a small boy, who was hurrying along, to join oneof the little parties in the old street, and who, partly to keep himselfcompany, and partly to prepare himself for the occasion, was shoutingout the song at the highest pitch of his lungs. So Gabriel waited untilthe boy came up, and then dodged him into a corner, and rapped him overthe head with his lantern five or six times, just to teach him tomodulate his voice. And as the boy hurried away with his hand to hishead, singing quite a different sort of tune, Gabriel Grub chuckled veryheartily to himself, and entered the churchyard, locking the gate behindhim.
'He took off his coat, set down his lantern, and getting into theunfinished grave, worked at it for an hour or so with right good-will.But the earth was hardened with the frost, and it was no very easymatter to break it up, and shovel it out; and although there was a moon,it was a very young one, and shed little light upon the grave, which wasin the shadow of the church. At any other time, these obstacles wouldhave made Gabriel Grub very moody and miserable, but he was so wellpleased with having stopped the small boy's singing, that he took littleheed of the scanty progress he had made, and looked down into the grave,when he had finished work for the night, with grim satisfaction,murmuring as he gathered up his things--
Brave lodgings for one, brave lodgings for one, A few feet of coldearth, when life is done; A stone at the head, a stone at the feet, Arich, juicy meal for the worms to eat; Rank grass overhead, and dampclay around, Brave lodgings for one, these, in holy ground!
'"Ho! ho!" laughed Gabriel Grub, as he sat himself down on a flattombstone which was a favourite resting-place of his, and drew forth hiswicker bottle. "A coffin at Christmas! A Christmas box! Ho! ho! ho!"
'"Ho! ho! ho!" repeated a voice which sounded close behind him.
'Gabriel paused, in some alarm, in the act of raising the wicker bottleto his lips, and looked round. The bottom of the oldest grave about himwas not more still and quiet than the churchyard in the pale moonlight.The cold hoar frost glistened on the tombstones, and sparkled like rowsof gems, among the stone carvings of the old church. The snow lay hardand crisp upon the ground; and spread over the thickly-strewn mounds ofearth, so white and smooth a cover that it seemed as if corpses laythere, hidden only by their winding sheets. Not the faintest rustlebroke the profound tranquillity of the solemn scene. Sound itselfappeared to be frozen up, all was so cold and still.
'"It was the echoes," said Gabriel Grub, raising the bottle to his lipsagain.
'"It was _not_," said a deep voice.
'Gabriel started up, and stood rooted to the spot with astonishment andterror; for his eyes rested on a form that made his blood run cold.
'Seated on an upright tombstone, close to him, was a strange, unearthlyfigure, whom Gabriel felt at once, was no being of this world. His long,fantastic legs which might have reached the ground, were cocked up, andcrossed after a quaint, fantastic fashion; his sinewy arms were bare;and his hands rested on his knees. On his short, round body, he wore aclose covering, ornamented with small slashes; a short cloak dangled athis back; the collar was cut into curious peaks, which served the goblinin lieu of ruff or neckerchief; and his shoes curled up at his toes intolong points. On his head, he wore a broad-brimmed sugar-loaf hat,garnished with a single feather. The hat was covered with the whitefrost; and the goblin looked as if he had sat on the same tombstone verycomfortably, for two or three hundred years. He was sitting perfectlystill; his tongue was put out, as if in derision; and he was grinning atGabriel Grub with such a grin as only a goblin could call up.
'"It was _not _the echoes," said the goblin.
'Gabriel Grub was paralysed, and could make no reply.
'"What do you do here on Christmas Eve?" said the goblin sternly.
'"I came to dig a grave, Sir," stammered Gabriel Grub.
'"What man wanders among graves and churchyards on such a night asthis?" cried the goblin.
'"Gabriel Grub! Gabriel Grub!" screamed a wild chorus of voices thatseemed to fill the churchyard. Gabriel looked fearfully round--nothingwas to be seen.
'"What have you got in that bottle?" said the goblin.
'"Hollands, sir," replied the sexton, trembling more than ever; for hehad bought it of the smugglers, and he thought that perhaps hisquestioner might be in the excise department of the goblins.
'"Who drinks Hollands alone, and in a churchyard, on such a night asthis?" said the goblin.
'"Gabriel Grub! Gabriel Grub!" exclaimed the wild voices again.
'The goblin leered maliciously at the terrified sexton, and then raisinghis voice, exclaimed--
'"And who, then, is our fair and lawful prize?"
'To this inquiry the invisible chorus replied, in a strain that soundedlike the voices of many choristers singing to the mighty swell of theold church organ--a strain that seemed borne to the sexton's ears upon awild wind, and to die away as it passed onward; but the burden of thereply was still the same, "Gabriel Grub! Gabriel Grub!"
'The goblin grinned a broader grin than before, as he said, "Well,Gabriel, what do you say to this?"
 
; 'The sexton gasped for breath.
'"What do you think of this, Gabriel?" said the goblin, kicking up hisfeet in the air on either side of the tombstone, and looking at theturned-up points with as much complacency as if he had beencontemplating the most fashionable pair of Wellingtons in all BondStreet.
'"It's--it's--very curious, Sir," replied the sexton, half dead withfright; "very curious, and very pretty, but I think I'll go back andfinish my work, Sir, if you please."
'"Work!" said the goblin, "what work?"
'"The grave, Sir; making the grave," stammered the sexton.
'"Oh, the grave, eh?" said the goblin; "who makes graves at a time whenall other men are merry, and takes a pleasure in it?"
'Again the mysterious voices replied, "Gabriel Grub! Gabriel Grub!"
'"I am afraid my friends want you, Gabriel," said the goblin, thrustinghis tongue farther into his cheek than ever--and a most astonishingtongue it was--"I'm afraid my friends want you, Gabriel," said thegoblin.
'"Under favour, Sir," replied the horror-stricken sexton, "I don't thinkthey can, Sir; they don't know me, Sir; I don't think the gentlemen haveever seen me, Sir."
'"Oh, yes, they have," replied the goblin; "we know the man with thesulky face and grim scowl, that came down the street to-night, throwinghis evil looks at the children, and grasping his burying-spade thetighter. We know the man who struck the boy in the envious malice of hisheart, because the boy could be merry, and he could not. We know him, weknow him."
'Here, the goblin gave a loud, shrill laugh, which the echoes returnedtwentyfold; and throwing his legs up in the air, stood upon his head, orrather upon the very point of his sugar-loaf hat, on the narrow edge ofthe tombstone, whence he threw a Somerset with extraordinary agility,right to the sexton's feet, at which he planted himself in the attitudein which tailors generally sit upon the shop-board.
'"I--I--am afraid I must leave you, Sir," said the sexton, making aneffort to move.
'"Leave us!" said the goblin, "Gabriel Grub going to leave us. Ho! ho!ho!"
'As the goblin laughed, the sexton observed, for one instant, abrilliant illumination within the windows of the church, as if the wholebuilding were lighted up; it disappeared, the organ pealed forth alively air, and whole troops of goblins, the very counterpart of thefirst one, poured into the churchyard, and began playing at leap-frogwith the tombstones, never stopping for an instant to take breath, but"overing" the highest among them, one after the other, with the mostmarvellous dexterity. The first goblin was a most astonishing leaper,and none of the others could come near him; even in the extremity of histerror the sexton could not help observing, that while his friends werecontent to leap over the common-sized gravestones, the first one tookthe family vaults, iron railings and all, with as much ease as if theyhad been so many street-posts.
'At last the game reached to a most exciting pitch; the organ playedquicker and quicker, and the goblins leaped faster and faster, coilingthemselves up, rolling head over heels upon the ground, and boundingover the tombstones like footballs. The sexton's brain whirled roundwith the rapidity of the motion he beheld, and his legs reeled beneathhim, as the spirits flew before his eyes; when the goblin king, suddenlydarting towards him, laid his hand upon his collar, and sank with himthrough the earth.
'When Gabriel Grub had had time to fetch his breath, which the rapidityof his descent had for the moment taken away, he found himself in whatappeared to be a large cavern, surrounded on all sides by crowds ofgoblins, ugly and grim; in the centre of the room, on an elevated seat,was stationed his friend of the churchyard; and close behind him stoodGabriel Grub himself, without power of motion.
'"Cold to-night," said the king of the goblins, "very cold. A glass ofsomething warm here!"
'At this command, half a dozen officious goblins, with a perpetual smileupon their faces, whom Gabriel Grub imagined to be courtiers, on thataccount, hastily disappeared, and presently returned with a goblet ofliquid fire, which they presented to the king.
'"Ah!" cried the goblin, whose cheeks and throat were transparent, as hetossed down the flame, "this warms one, indeed! Bring a bumper of thesame, for Mr. Grub."
'It was in vain for the unfortunate sexton to protest that he was not inthe habit of taking anything warm at night; one of the goblins held himwhile another poured the blazing liquid down his throat; the wholeassembly screeched with laughter, as he coughed and choked, and wipedaway the tears which gushed plentifully from his eyes, after swallowingthe burning draught.
'"And now," said the king, fantastically poking the taper corner of hissugar-loaf hat into the sexton's eye, and thereby occasioning him themost exquisite pain; "and now, show the man of misery and gloom, a fewof the pictures from our own great storehouse!"
'As the goblin said this, a thick cloud which obscured the remoter endof the cavern rolled gradually away, and disclosed, apparently at agreat distance, a small and scantily furnished, but neat and cleanapartment. A crowd of little children were gathered round a bright fire,clinging to their mother's gown, and gambolling around her chair. Themother occasionally rose, and drew aside the window-curtain, as if tolook for some expected object; a frugal meal was ready spread upon thetable; and an elbow chair was placed near the fire. A knock was heard atthe door; the mother opened it, and the children crowded round her, andclapped their hands for joy, as their father entered. He was wet andweary, and shook the snow from his garments, as the children crowdedround him, and seizing his cloak, hat, stick, and gloves, with busyzeal, ran with them from the room. Then, as he sat down to his mealbefore the fire, the children climbed about his knee, and the mother satby his side, and all seemed happiness and comfort.
'But a change came upon the view, almost imperceptibly. The scene wasaltered to a small bedroom, where the fairest and youngest child laydying; the roses had fled from his cheek, and the light from his eye;and even as the sexton looked upon him with an interest he had neverfelt or known before, he died. His young brothers and sisters crowdedround his little bed, and seized his tiny hand, so cold and heavy; butthey shrank back from its touch, and looked with awe on his infant face;for calm and tranquil as it was, and sleeping in rest and peace as thebeautiful child seemed to be, they saw that he was dead, and they knewthat he was an angel looking down upon, and blessing them, from a brightand happy Heaven.
'Again the light cloud passed across the picture, and again the subjectchanged. The father and mother were old and helpless now, and the numberof those about them was diminished more than half; but content andcheerfulness sat on every face, and beamed in every eye, as they crowdedround the fireside, and told and listened to old stories of earlier andbygone days. Slowly and peacefully, the father sank into the grave, and,soon after, the sharer of all his cares and troubles followed him to aplace of rest. The few who yet survived them, kneeled by their tomb, andwatered the green turf which covered it with their tears; then rose, andturned away, sadly and mournfully, but not with bitter cries, ordespairing lamentations, for they knew that they should one day meetagain; and once more they mixed with the busy world, and their contentand cheerfulness were restored. The cloud settled upon the picture, andconcealed it from the sexton's view.
'"What do you think of _that_?" said the goblin, turning his large facetowards Gabriel Grub.
'Gabriel murmured out something about its being very pretty, and lookedsomewhat ashamed, as the goblin bent his fiery eyes upon him.
'"You a miserable man!" said the goblin, in a tone of excessivecontempt. "You!" He appeared disposed to add more, but indignationchoked his utterance, so he lifted up one of his very pliable legs, and,flourishing it above his head a little, to insure his aim, administereda good sound kick to Gabriel Grub; immediately after which, all thegoblins in waiting crowded round the wretched sexton, and kicked himwithout mercy, according to the established and invariable custom ofcourtiers upon earth, who kick whom royalty kicks, and hug whom royaltyhugs.
'"Show him some more!" said the king of the goblins.
> 'At these words, the cloud was dispelled, and a rich and beautifullandscape was disclosed to view--there is just such another, to thisday, within half a mile of the old abbey town. The sun shone from outthe clear blue sky, the water sparkled beneath his rays, and the treeslooked greener, and the flowers more gay, beneath its cheeringinfluence. The water rippled on with a pleasant sound, the trees rustledin the light wind that murmured among their leaves, the birds sang uponthe boughs, and the lark carolled on high her welcome to the morning.Yes, it was morning; the bright, balmy morning of summer; the minutestleaf, the smallest blade of grass, was instinct with life. The ant creptforth to her daily toil, the butterfly fluttered and basked in the warmrays of the sun; myriads of insects spread their transparent wings, andrevelled in their brief but happy existence. Man walked forth, elatedwith the scene; and all was brightness and splendour.
'"_You _a miserable man!" said the king of the goblins, in a morecontemptuous tone than before. And again the king of the goblins gavehis leg a flourish; again it descended on the shoulders of the sexton;and again the attendant goblins imitated the example of their chief.
'Many a time the cloud went and came, and many a lesson it taught toGabriel Grub, who, although his shoulders smarted with pain from thefrequent applications of the goblins' feet thereunto, looked on with aninterest that nothing could diminish. He saw that men who worked hard,and earned their scanty bread with lives of labour, were cheerful andhappy; and that to the most ignorant, the sweet face of Nature was anever-failing source of cheerfulness and joy. He saw those who had beendelicately nurtured, and tenderly brought up, cheerful under privations,and superior to suffering, that would have crushed many of a roughergrain, because they bore within their own bosoms the materials ofhappiness, contentment, and peace. He saw that women, the tenderest andmost fragile of all God's creatures, were the oftenest superior tosorrow, adversity, and distress; and he saw that it was because theybore, in their own hearts, an inexhaustible well-spring of affection anddevotion. Above all, he saw that men like himself, who snarled at themirth and cheerfulness of others, were the foulest weeds on the fairsurface of the earth; and setting all the good of the world against theevil, he came to the conclusion that it was a very decent andrespectable sort of world after all. No sooner had he formed it, thanthe cloud which had closed over the last picture, seemed to settle onhis senses, and lull him to repose. One by one, the goblins faded fromhis sight; and, as the last one disappeared, he sank to sleep.
'The day had broken when Gabriel Grub awoke, and found himself lying atfull length on the flat gravestone in the churchyard, with the wickerbottle lying empty by his side, and his coat, spade, and lantern, allwell whitened by the last night's frost, scattered on the ground. Thestone on which he had first seen the goblin seated, stood bolt uprightbefore him, and the grave at which he had worked, the night before, wasnot far off. At first, he began to doubt the reality of his adventures,but the acute pain in his shoulders when he attempted to rise, assuredhim that the kicking of the goblins was certainly not ideal. He wasstaggered again, by observing no traces of footsteps in the snow onwhich the goblins had played at leap-frog with the gravestones, but hespeedily accounted for this circumstance when he remembered that, beingspirits, they would leave no visible impression behind them. So, GabrielGrub got on his feet as well as he could, for the pain in his back; and,brushing the frost off his coat, put it on, and turned his face towardsthe town.
'But he was an altered man, and he could not bear the thought ofreturning to a place where his repentance would be scoffed at, and hisreformation disbelieved. He hesitated for a few moments; and then turnedaway to wander where he might, and seek his bread elsewhere.
'The lantern, the spade, and the wicker bottle were found, that day, inthe churchyard. There were a great many speculations about the sexton'sfate, at first, but it was speedily determined that he had been carriedaway by the goblins; and there were not wanting some very crediblewitnesses who had distinctly seen him whisked through the air on theback of a chestnut horse blind of one eye, with the hind-quarters of alion, and the tail of a bear. At length all this was devoutly believed;and the new sexton used to exhibit to the curious, for a triflingemolument, a good-sized piece of the church weathercock which had beenaccidentally kicked off by the aforesaid horse in his aerial flight, andpicked up by himself in the churchyard, a year or two afterwards.
'Unfortunately, these stories were somewhat disturbed by the unlooked-for reappearance of Gabriel Grub himself, some ten years afterwards, aragged, contented, rheumatic old man. He told his story to theclergyman, and also to the mayor; and in course of time it began to bereceived as a matter of history, in which form it has continued down tothis very day. The believers in the weathercock tale, having misplacedtheir confidence once, were not easily prevailed upon to part with itagain, so they looked as wise as they could, shrugged their shoulders,touched their foreheads, and murmured something about Gabriel Grubhaving drunk all the Hollands, and then fallen asleep on the flattombstone; and they affected to explain what he supposed he hadwitnessed in the goblin's cavern, by saying that he had seen the world,and grown wiser. But this opinion, which was by no means a popular oneat any time, gradually died off; and be the matter how it may, asGabriel Grub was afflicted with rheumatism to the end of his days, thisstory has at least one moral, if it teach no better one--and that is,that if a man turn sulky and drink by himself at Christmas time, he maymake up his mind to be not a bit the better for it: let the spirits benever so good, or let them be even as many degrees beyond proof, asthose which Gabriel Grub saw in the goblin's cavern.'