farmer, thumping his fist on the table. “What should we be without women?”
“Very much better, I take it, sir. Adam was as good as gold, and never had a qualm of conscience or stomach till Eve seduced him into eating raw apples.”
“Young man, thou’st been crossed in love. I see it now. That’s why thou look’st so sorrowful.”
“Sorrowful! Did you ever know a man crossed in love who looked less sorrowful when he came across a pudding?”
“Hey! but thou canst ply a good knife and fork, that I will say for thee.” Here the farmer turned round, and gazed on Kenelm with deliberate scrutiny. That scrutiny accomplished, his voice took a somewhat more respectful tone, as he resumed, “Do you know that you puzzle me somewhat?”
“Very likely. I am sure that I puzzle myself. Say on.”
“Looking at your dress and—and—”
“The two shillings you gave me? Yes—”
“I took you for the son of some small farmer like myself. But now I judge from your talk that you are a college chap,—anyhow, a gentleman. Be n’t it so?”
“My dear Mr. Saunderson, I set out on my travels, which is not long ago, with a strong dislike to telling lies. But I doubt if a man can get along through this world without finding that the faculty of lying was bestowed on him by Nature as a necessary means of self-preservation. If you are going to ask me any questions about myself, I am sure that I shall tell you lies. Perhaps, therefore, it may be best for both if I decline the bed you proffered me, and take my night’s rest under a hedge.”
“Pooh! I don’t want to know more of a man’s affairs than he thinks fit to tell me. Stay and finish the haymaking. And I say, lad, I’m glad you don’t seem to care for the girls; for I saw a very pretty one trying to flirt with you, and if you don’t mind she’ll bring you into trouble.”
“How? Does she want to run away from her uncle?”
“Uncle! Bless you, she don’t live with him! She lives with her father; and I never knew that she wants to run away. In fact, Jessie Wiles—that’s her name—is, I believe, a very good girl, and everybody likes her,—perhaps a little too much; but then she knows she’s a beauty, and does not object to admiration.”
“No woman ever does, whether she’s a beauty or not. But I don’t yet understand why Jessie Wiles should bring me into trouble.”
“Because there is a big hulking fellow who has gone half out of his wits for her; and when he fancies he sees any other chap too sweet on her he thrashes him into a jelly. So, youngster, you just keep your skin out of that trap.”
“Hem! And what does the girl say to those proofs of affection? Does she like the man the better for thrashing other admirers into jelly?”
“Poor child! No; she hates the very sight of him. But he swears she shall marry nobody else if he hangs for it. And, to tell you the truth, I suspect that if Jessie does seem to trifle with others a little too lightly, it is to draw away this bully’s suspicion from the only man I think she does care for,—a poor sickly young fellow who was crippled by an accident, and whom Tom Bowles could brain with his little finger.”
“This is really interesting,” cried Kenelm, showing something like excitement. “I should like to know this terrible suitor.”
“That’s easy eno’,” said the farmer, dryly. “You have only to take a stroll with Jessie Wiles after sunset, and you’ll know more of Tom Bowles than you are likely to forget in a month.”
“Thank you very much for your information,” said Kenelm, in a soft tone, grateful but pensive. “I hope to profit by it.”
“Do. I should be sorry if any harm came to thee; and Tom Bowles in one of his furies is as bad to cross as a mad bull. So now, as we must be up early, I’ll just take a look round the stables, and then off to bed; and I advise you to do the same.”
“Thank you for the hint. I see the young ladies have already gone in. Good-night.”
Passing through the garden, Kenelm encountered the junior Saunderson.
“I fear,” said the Votary of Progress, “that you have found the governor awful slow. What have you been talking about?”
“Girls,” said Kenelm, “a subject always awful, but not necessarily slow.”
“Girls,—the governor been talking about girls? You joke.”
“I wish I did joke, but that is a thing I could never do since I came upon earth. Even in the cradle, I felt that life was a very serious matter, and did not allow of jokes. I remember too well my first dose of castor-oil. You too, Mr. Bob, have doubtless imbibed that initiatory preparation to the sweets of existence. The corners of your mouth have not recovered from the downward curves into which it so rigidly dragged them. Like myself, you are of grave temperament, and not easily moved to jocularity,—nay, an enthusiast for Progress is of necessity a man eminently dissatisfied with the present state of affairs. And chronic dissatisfaction resents the momentary relief of a joke.”
“Give off chaffing, if you please,” said Bob, lowering the didascular intonations of his voice, “and just tell me plainly, did not my father say anything particular about me?”
“Not a word: the only person of the male sex of whom he said anything particular was Tom Bowles.”
“What, fighting Tom! the terror of the whole neighbourhood! Ah, I guess the old gentleman is afraid lest Tom may fall foul upon me. But Jessie Wiles is not worth a quarrel with that brute. It is a crying shame in the Government—”
“What! has the Government failed to appreciate the heroism of Tom Bowles, or rather to restrain the excesses of its ardour?”
“Stuff! it is a shame in the Government not to have compelled his father to put him to school. If education were universal—”
“You think there would be no brutes in particular. It may be so; but education is universal in China, and so is the bastinado. I thought, however, that you said the schoolmaster was abroad, and that the age of enlightenment was in full progress.”
“Yes, in the towns, but not in these obsolete rural districts; and that brings me to the point. I feel lost, thrown away here. I have something in me, sir, and it can only come out by collision with equal minds. So do me a favour, will you?”
“With the greatest pleasure.”
“Give the governor a hint that he can’t expect me, after the education I have had, to follow the plough and fatten pigs; and that Manchester is the place for ME.”
“Why Manchester?”
“Because I have a relation in business there who will give me a clerkship if the governor will consent. And Manchester rules England.”
“Mr. Bob Saunderson, I will do my best to promote your wishes. This is a land of liberty, and every man should choose his own walk in it, so that, at the last, if he goes to the dogs, he goes to them without that disturbance of temper
