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L. The Sheep Fair—Troy Touches His Wife's Hand

           Attheturnpikescene,whereBessandTurpinarehotlypursuedatmidnightbytheofficers,andthehalf-awakegatekeeperinhistassellednightcapdeniesthatanyhorsemanhaspassed,Cogganutteredabroad-chested"Welldone!"whichcouldbeheardalloverthefairabovethebleating,andPoorgrasssmileddelightedlywithanicesenseofdramaticcontrastbetweenourhero,whocoollyleapsthegate,andhaltingjusticeintheformofhisenemies,whomustneedspullupcumbersomelyandwaittobeletthrough.AtthedeathofTomKing,hecouldnotrefrainfromseizingCogganbythehand,andwhispering,withtearsinhiseyes,"Ofcoursehe’snotreallyshot,Janonlyseemingly!"Andwhenthelastsadscenecameon,andthebodyofthegallantandfaithfulBesshadtobecarriedoutonashutterbytwelvevolunteersfromamongthespectators,nothingcouldrestrainPoorgrassfromlendingahand,exclaiming,asheaskedJantojoinhim,"TwillbesomethingtotellofatWarren’sinfutureyears,Jan,andhanddowntoourchildren."FormanyayearinWeatherbury,Josephtold,withtheairofamanwhohadhadexperiencesinhistime,thathetouchedwithhisownhandthehoofofBessasshelayupontheboarduponhisshoulder.If,assomethinkershold,immortalityconsistsinbeingenshrinedinothers’memories,thendidBlackBessbecomeimmortalthatdayifsheneverhaddonesobefore.

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