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According to the constitution of young princes； so much of a young
prince （if anything） as is not actually an angel； must be godly and
righteous。 Therefore if it’s becoming and godly and righteous in
the young princes （as it is at their ages） that they should be boys；
they are and must be boys； and cannot by possibility be anything
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else。’
This elucidation of a knotty point being received with such
marks of approval as to put John Willet into a good humour； he
contented himself with repeating to his son his command of
silence； and addressing the stranger； said：
‘If you had asked your questions of a grown…up person—of me
or any of these gentlemen—you’d have had some satisfaction； and
wouldn’t have wasted breath。 Miss Haredale is Mr Geoffrey
Haredale’s niece。’
‘Is her father alive？’ said the man； carelessly。
‘No；’ rejoined the landlord； ‘he is not alive； and he is not dead—’
‘Not dead！’ cried the other。
‘Not dead in a common sort of way；’ said the landlord。
The cronies nodded to each other； and Mr Parkes remarked in
an undertone； shaking his head meanwhile as who should say； ‘let
no man contradict me； for I won’t believe him；’ that John Willet
was in amazing force to…night； and fit to tackle a Chief Justice。
The stranger suffered a short pause to elapse； and then asked
abruptly； ‘What do you mean？’
‘More than you think for； friend；’ returned John Willet。
‘Perhaps there’s more meaning in them words than you suspect。’
‘Perhaps there is；’ said the strange man； gruffly； ‘but what the
devil do you speak in such mysteries for？ You tell me； first； that a
man is not alive； nor yet dead—then； that he’s not dead in a
common sort of way—then； that you mean a great deal more than
I think for。 To tell you the truth； you may do that easily； for so far
as I can make out； you mean nothing。 What do you mean； I ask
again？’
‘That；’ returned the landlord； a little brought down from his
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dignity by the stranger’s surliness； ‘is a Maypole story； and has
been any time these four…and…twenty years。 That story is Solomon
Daisy’s story。 It belongs to the house； and nobody but Solomon
Daisy has ever told it under this roof； or ever shall—that’s more。’
The man glanced at the parish…clerk； whose air of
consciousness and importance plainly betokened him to be the
person referred to； and； observing that he had taken his pipe from
his lips； after a very long whiff to keep it alight； and was evidently
about to tell his story without further solicitation； gathered his
large coat about him； and shrinking further back was almost lost
in the gloom of the spacious chimney…corner； except when the
flame； struggling from under a great faggot； whose weight almost
crushed it for the time； shot upward with a strong and sudden
glare； and illumining his figure for a moment； seemed afterwards
to cast it into deeper obscurity than before。
By this flickering light； which made the old room； with its heavy
timbers and panelled walls； look as if it were built of polished
ebony—the wind roaring and howling without； now rattling the
latch and creaking the hinges of the stout oaken door； and now
driving at the casement as though it would beat it in—by this light；
and under circumstances so auspicious； Solomon Daisy began his
tale：
‘It was Mr Reuben Haredale； Mr Geoffrey’s elder brother—’
Here he came to a dead stop； and made so long a pause that
even John Willet grew impatient and asked why he did not
proceed。
‘Cobb；’ said Solomon Daisy； dropping his voice and appealing
to the post…office keeper； ‘what day of the month is this？’
‘The nineteenth。’
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‘Of March；’ said the clerk； bending forward； ‘the nineteenth of
March； that’s very strange。’
In a low voice they all acquiesced； and Solomon went on：
‘It was Mr Reuben Haredale； Mr Geoffrey’s elder brother； that
twenty…two years ago was the owner of the Warren； which； as Joe
has said—not that you remember it； Joe； for a boy like you can’t do
that； but because you have often heard me say so—was then a
much larger and better place； and a much more valuable property
than it is now。 His lady was lately dead； and he was left with one
child—the Miss Haredale you have been inquiring about—who
was then scarcely a year old。’
Although the speaker addressed himself to the man who had
shown so much curiosity about this same family； and made a
pause here as if expecting some exclamation of surprise or
encouragement； the latter made no remark； nor gave any
indication that he heard or was interested in what was said。
Solomon therefore turned to his old companions； whose noses
were brightly illuminated by the deep red glow from the bowls of
their pipes； assured； by long experience； of their attention； and
resolved to show his sense of such indecent behaviour。
‘Mr Haredale；’ said Solomon； turning his back upon the strange
man； ‘left this place when his lady died； feeling it lonely like； and
went up to London； where he stopped some months； but finding
that place as lonely as this—as I suppose and have always heard
say—he suddenly came back again with his little girl to the
Warren； bringing with him besides； that day； only two women
servants； and his steward； and a gardener。’
Mr Daisy stopped to take a whiff at his pipe； which was going
out； and then proceeded—at first in a snuffling tone； occasioned
Charles Dickens