When Farmer Oak smiled,
           the corners
               of his mouth spread
             till they
                were within an unimportant distance
                       of his ears,
         his eyes
            were reduced to chinks,
           and diverging wrinkles
            appeared round them,
         extending upon his countenance
              like the rays
                   in a rudimentary sketch
                       of the rising sun.

    His Christian name was Gabriel,
           and on working days
             he was a young man
                   of sound judgment,
         easy motions,
           proper dress,
         and general good character.

    On Sundays
         he was a man
               of misty views,
           rather given to postponing,
         and hampered by his best
               clothes and umbrella:
         upon the whole,
           one who felt himself
              to occupy morally
             that vast middle space
                   of Laodicean neutrality
                  which lay
                       between the Communion people
                           of the parish
                         and the drunken section,
          -- that is,
           he went to church,
         but yawned privately
               by the time the congegation
              reached the Nicene creed,- and
                  thought of
             what there
                would be for dinner
             when he meant
                  to be listening
                     to the sermon.

    Or,
           to state his character
               as it
            stood in the scale
                   of public opinion,
         when his friends and critics
            were in tantrums,
           he was
              considered rather a bad man;
        when they were pleased,
           he was
               rather a good man;
        when they were neither,
           he was a man
             whose moral colour
                was a kind
                       of pepper-and-salt mixture.

    Since he lived
           six times
               as many working-days as Sundays,
           Oak's appearance
               in his old clothes
            was most peculiarly his own
          -- the mental picture
               formed by his neighbours
                   in imagining him
            being always
                  dressed in that way.

    He wore a low-crowned
          felt hat,
           spread out at the base
               by tight
              jamming upon the head
                   for security
                 in high winds,
         and a coat
               like Dr. Johnson's;
        his lower extremities
            being encased
                   in ordinary leather leggings
                       and boots emphatically large,
           affording to each
              foot a roomy apartment
                   so constructed
             that any wearer
                might stand
                       in a river
                           all day long
                      and know nothing of damp
          -- their maker
            being a conscientious man
             who endeavoured
                  to compensate
                       for any weakness
                     in his cut
                       by unstinted dimension and solidity.

    Mr. Oak carried about him,
           by way of watch,-
             what may be called
                   a small silver clock;
        in other words,
           it was a watch as
              to shape and intention,
         and a small clock
               as to size.

    This instrument
        being several years older
               than Oak's grandfather,
           had the peculiarity of going
               either too
              fast or not at all.

    The smaller of its hands,
           too,
         occasionally slipped round
               on the pivot,
           and thus,
         though the minutes
            were told with precision,
           nobody could be
              quite certain of the hour
             they belonged to.

    The stopping peculiarity
           of his watch Oak
          remedied by thumps and shakes,
           and he escaped
               any evil consequences
                   from the other two
                  defects by constant comparisons
                       with and
                         observations
                            of the sun and stars,
         and by pressing his face
               close to the glass
                   of his neighbours' windows,
           till he
            could discern the hour
                  marked by
                       the green-faced timekeepers within.

    It may be mentioned
         that Oak's fob
            being difficult of access,
           by reason of its
              somewhat high situation
                   in the waistband
                       of his trousers
         (which also lay
               at a remote height
             under his waistcoat),
          the watch
            was as a necessity
                  pulled out
                       by throwing the body
                           to one side,
               compressing the mouth and face
                   to a mere mass
                       of ruddy flesh
                   on account of the exertion,
             and drawing up the watch
                   by its chain,
               like a bucket
                   from a well.

    But some thoughtfull persons,
           who had
              seen him
                  walking across
                       one of his fields
                     on a certain December morning
         -- sunny
               and exceedingly mild --
            might have
              regarded Gabriel Oak
                   in other aspects than these.

    In his face one
        might notice