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Pete remembered hearing that a new parson was coming to the local Methodists, but nothing had led him to expect such thrilling developments.These tricks were never unkind, for David and William were the most benevolent little boys. They saw life through a golden mist, it smelt of milk and apples, it was full of soft lowings and bleatings and cheepings, of gentle noses to stroke and little downy things to hold. For the first time since it became Reuben's, Odiam made children happy. The farm which had been a galley and a prison to those before them, was an enchanted land of adventure to these two. Old Beatup, who remembered earlier things, would sometimes smile when he saw them trotting hand in hand about the yard, playing long hours in the orchard, and now and then[Pg 385] pleading as a special favour to be allowed to feed the chickens, or help fetch the cows home. He seemed to see the farm peopled by little ghosts who had never dared trot about aimlessly, or had time to play, and had fed the fowls and fetched the cows not as a treat and an adventure, but as a dreary part of the day's grind ... he reflected that "the m?aster had learned summat by the others, surelye."
ONE:

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TWO:Reuben struggled untiringlyhe tried manure as in his first enterprising days, and a horrible stink of guano told traffic on the road it was passing through Odiam territory. Spades and ploughshares and harrows scored and pulped the earth. Sometimes with breaking back and aching head, the sweat streaming over his skin, he would lift himself stiffly from the plough-handles, and shake his fist at the desert round him. He had never had such a tussle before, and put it down to the fact that he was now for the first time on the high ground, on the hard and sterile scab of the marl, where it seemed as if only gorse would grow. He felt as if now for the first time he was fighting against odds, his earlier struggles were tame compared with this."My son," said he, when father John had ceased, "it seems an oppressive case according to your statement; but you are well aware how much our holy church has been shorn of her power, and how eager the monarch, and nobles, and even the people, are to abridge our privileges." The abbot paused, and again resumed: "I fear, my son, our remonstrance would be disregarded by this young lord, and only cause a further indignity to be cast on our holy church."

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  • FORE:He also missed her in the househer soft pale face and gentle ways. He forgot the sallowness and the peevishness of later years, and pictured her always with creamy roseal skin and timid voice. He was the only one who missed her. Mrs. Backfield's softer feelings seemed to have been atrophied by hard workshe grew daily more and more like a machine; the children were too young to care much, and Harry was incapable of regret. However, the strange thing about Harry was that he did indeed seem to miss someone, but not Naomi. For the first time since little Fanny's death he began to ask for her, and search for her about the house"Where's the pretty baby?oh, save the pretty baby!" he would wail"she's gone, she's gonethe pretty baby's gone."

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  • FORE:They still sounded when Naomi woke. She sat up in bed, uncertain as to whether she were dreaming or not. Then from Fanny's little bed beside the big one came something terriblea low long wail like an animal's dying into a moan. It seemed as if her heart stopped[Pg 97] beating. She felt the sweat rush out all over her body. The next minute she was out of bed, groping for Fanny in the darkness.

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  • FORE:

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  • FORE:Chapter 9

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  • FORE:"Rubbidge!" said Reuben.Should you turn from me now that they winter in fold?"

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  • FORE:Calverley had intended to see Margaret again before leaving the castle; but De Boteler, having changed the hour he had appointed, there was not a moment to spare from the necessary arrangements. Never before had Calverley's assumed equanimity of temper been so severely tried; the patient attention with which he listened, and the prompt assiduity with which he executed a thousand trifling commandsalthough, from the force with which he bit his underlip, he was frequently compelled to wipe away the blood from his mouthshewed the absolute control he had acquired over his feelingsat least so far as the exterior was concerned.

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THREE:

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THREE:Chapter 6"They're no good, them Boers," he announced at the Cocks; "there they've bin fur years and years, and[Pg 409] they say as how that Transvaal's lik a desert. They've got mizzling liddle farms such as I wudn't give sixpence forand all that gurt veldt's lik the palm of my hand, naun growing. They d?an't deserve to have a country."

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THREE:"Poor babe! it was a sad night I laid ye there," said Holgrave, bending over the grave, and looking earnestly at the little corpse; and then kneeling down, he attempted to raise one of the hands, but it dropped crumbling from his touch.

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ONE:"Why?"
FORE:"Do you like pictures?" asked Alice, thumping dough.

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TWO:

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99 
TWO:
THREE:"Well, is it? I reckon it ?un't the last word on your wife." THREE:"You talk boldly, sir, of my lord's intents," answered the yeoman sulkily.Richard flushed with pleasure. After all he was not acquitting himself so badly with this fine lady. They talked together for a few more minutes, the boy trying to clip his speech like hers. He noticed how much shorter and crisper it was than hiswhile he said "d?an't," she could say "don't" twice. THREE:
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Reuben could not understand how his sons could care so little about that which was all things to him. He had brought them up to his ambitionsthey were not like Naomi, thrust into them in later, less-impressionable years. He had not been weak with them, and not been cruelyet only Pete was at all satisfactory. However, he was not the man to sit down and despair before his obstacles. He made the best of things as they wereground[Pg 138] work out of his lads, since he could not grind enthusiasm, and trusted to the future to stir up a greater hope. He somehow could not believe that his boys could go through all their lives not caring for Odiam."Write to Simon Sudbury!"He found his daughter in a chair by the window. Her face was puffed and blotched with tears, and her legs would hardly support her when she stood up. She had brought her youngest son with her, a fine sturdy little fellow of fourteen. When Reuben came into the room she gave the boy a glance, and, as at a preconcerted signal, they both fell on their knees."Oh, Joe, he's seen us.""Foul mouthed witch!" interrupted De Boteler, "keep thy tongue silentno morelest I anticipate justice by hanging you at your own threshold!"
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