So Nat Callcome is in Casterbridge stocks again.
He tanked himself up on scrumpy, and his wife Vashti hit him with a besom. Nice wristy action, those Sniff girls have. She'd have made a pretty decent 20-20 player in the 21st Century. Could pull off quite a reverse sweep, I reckon. Nat went off in a huff, met up with Joseph Poorgrass on Grey's Bridge, and had a few more at the Three Mariners. Came out of the inn and walked in front of the carrier's van on its way to Upper Longpuddle. He should think himself lucky it's just the stocks. He could have been lying next to Old William Dewy in Mellstock churchyard.