It was Ratsey the sexton at work in a shed which opened on the
street, lettering a tombstone with a mallet and graver. He had been
mason before he became fisherman, and was handy with his tools; so that
if anyone wanted a headstone set up in the churchyard, he went to Ratsey
to get it done. I lent over the half-door and watched him a minute,
chipping away with the graver in a bad light from a lantern; then he
looked up, and seeing me, said:
'Here, John, if you have nothing to do, come in and hold the lantern for
me, 'tis but a half-hour's job to get all finished.'
Ratsey was always kind to me, and had lent me a chisel many a time to
make boats, so I stepped in and held the lantern watching him chink out
the bits of Portland stone with a graver, and blinking the while when
they came too near my eyes. The inscription stood complete, but he was
putting the finishing touches to a little sea-piece carved at the top of
the stone, which showed a schooner boarding a cutter. I thought it fine
work at the time, but know now that it was rough enough; indeed, you may
see it for yourself in Moonfleet churchyard to this day, and read the
inscription too, though it is yellow with lichen, and not so plain as it
was that night. This is how it runs:
SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF DAVID BLOCK
Aged 15, who was killed by a shot fired from the _Elector_ Schooner,
21 June 1757.
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