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ONE:What there was in either Reuben or Naomi to make a poet of their eldest son would be hard to say. Perhaps it was the glow of their young love, so golden and romantic during the first year of their marriage. If so, there was something of bitter irony in this survival and transmutation of it. Odiam was no place for poets, and Reuben tried by every means in his power to knock the poetry out of Albert. It was not the actual poetry he objected to so much as the vices which went with it��forgetfulness, unpracticalness, negligence. Albert would sometimes lose quite half an hour's work by falling into a dream, he also played truant on occasions, and would disappear for hours, indeed now and then for a day or more, wandering in the fields and spinneys, tasting the sharp sweetness of the dawn and the earth-flavoured sleep of the night. TWO:"Wot did you come here fur?"On Reuben's marriage Tilly had hoped that Rose might do something for Caro, and indeed the girl had lately seemed to have a few more treats and pleasures in her life; but from what she had heard and from what she saw, the younger sister was afraid that Rose's good offices were not likely to make for Caro's ultimate happiness. Then comfortable little Tilly would sigh in the midst of her own, and wish that everyone could have what she had been given.

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ONE:He repeated the word almost stupidly."I can't understand, papa," said Anne Bardon, "how you can go on selling land to that odious Backfield." TWO:The calm dignity of Skipwith's reply produced some effect upon the abbot; for in a tone less abrupt than before, he replied��

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ONE:"No. Howsumdever, we can't stand ag?unst him��the pl?ace is his'n, and he can do wot he likes." TWO:Reuben would imagine the corpse saying all sorts of insulting things to him, and he had horrible nightmares of its gibes and mockery. One night Rose woke in the dubious comfort of the new brass bed��which she had wheedled Reuben into sparing from the auction��to find her husband kneeling on his pillow and pinning some imaginary object against the wall while he shouted��"I've got you, you old grinning ghosty��now we'll see who's sold!""You can't be sure o' that, Mus' Ditch��only the Lard knows wot mad folkses remember and wot they forget. But there's the supper ready; git moving or we'll have to sit by the door."

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TWO:"No��why should I?""Plain enough," he repeated, "but you needn't be[Pg 294] scared. I'll do naun you d?an't want; I'll come no nearer you than I am now��unless you call me."

FORE:He came over to the bed and looked down on her. Her eyes were haunting ... and the vestiges of youth about her face. But he no longer pitied or spared. Boarzell had taught him his first lesson��that only the hard shall triumph in the hard fight, and that he who would spare his brother shall do no better than he who would spare himself.

FORE:

FORE:He looked.

FORE:There was a big outcry in Peasmarsh against Backfield's treatment of the Realfs. Not a farmer in the district would have kept on a hand who had burnt nearly the whole farm to ashes through bad stacking, but this fact did little to modify the general criticism. A dozen excuses were found for Realf's "accident," as it came to be called��"and old Ben cud have afforded to lose a stack or two, surelye."

FORE:He quickened his pace till his men were afraid he would "bust himself," and dashing between the burning ricks, nearly received full in the chest the bucket his son-in-law had just swung.Wat Turner, whose attention was anxiously fixed on the proceedings, now stept forward, and forcing his way till he stood opposite the Baron, demanded in a voice of mingled anger and supplication, "May I be heard, Baron De Boteler?"

FORE:"Why not? There's naun shameful in it. Munds's brother did it for twenty years. And think of the difference it'll m?ake to us��thirty pound or so a year, instead of the dead loss of Harry's keep and the wages of an extra man beside. I tell you, mother, I wur fair sick about the farm till I thought of this."The galleyman had stood in the hall, a silent, but delighted, spectator of all we have detailed. His heart yearned to grasp Holgrave's hand, and tell him how much he rejoiced in his freedom; but he dared not presume so far until the yeoman should have been dismissed. Besides, his thoughts were bent upon another object: as Richard raised the parchment for perusal, the seals attracted his attention, and he instantly recognized it as one he had observed Calverley drop in Gloucester, at the time of Edith's trial; but as he saw the ungracious look the baron cast on Black Jack, he thought he would not irritate him further by mentioning it: yet, stepping forward as Oakley ceased, he said��

FORE:

FORE:She went down into the kitchen, where Caro was baking suet.

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TWO:"Mary Byles," he began, "I have one more question to ask you. How many drops of that fatal potion was it that Edith Holgrave told you to give my lord's infant?"

TWO:

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TWO:"Bread ... cheese...."

TWO:"Why," replied Holgrave, imagining the exclamation addressed to him, "I suppose he has left the Essex men to try what can be done among the bondmen!""That's the heat."

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TWO:Then came old Gasson, Naomi's father, and well-known as a shipbuilder at Rye��for this was a good match of Harry's, and Reuben hoped, but had no reason to expect, he would turn it to Odiam's advantage. After him walked most of the farmers of the neighbourhood, come to see the last of a loved, respected friend. Even Pilbeam was there, from beyond Dallington, and Oake from Boreham Street. The Squire himself had sent a message of condolence, though he had been unable to come to the funeral. Reuben did not particularly want his sympathy. He despised the Bardons for their watery Liberalism and ineffectual efforts to improve their estates.

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