THE LOST GROCER
principal policeman of the pleasant little town of Troutpeg, situated, as you know, on the banks of the river Peg, just where it flows into the estuary of the Drip, that here broadens into that well-known landlocked harbour of the same name, and thus finally finds its way to the sea. Nestling amongst its stone-capped hills, the happy place seemed designed by a kind nature as a retreat for all who were blithe and amiable, and such indeed it proved to be, for no more kindly and genial souls than the Troutpegsters could be found. Their simplicity was delightful, though perhaps such as to incline them all the more readily to believe in the wild legends of the country-side. Many were the strange stories told by the shepherds, who tended their flocks on the hills at night, of wild rites, and uncouth dances performed by ghostly beings, in the light of the moon, amidst the ancient circles of Druid stones. Little else, however, was there to disturb the peaceful thoughts of the Troutpegsters.
'The prosperity of the township was so great, and the comfort of each of its inhabitants so well assured that for many years no wickedness of any kind had shown its head, and the life of a policeman in this happy and secluded town was one long summer holiday. To be sure, a little skirmish here and there amongst the lads might make it wise gently to exert my authority, or a little quarrel amongst the girls call forth a slight rebuke, but otherwise my life was one of unbroken peace.
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