by R S Surtees
“Indeed!” exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks, perking up, “wonders if they came from our place; was there a great J. & Co at the end, done in black paint with red dots?”
“Can’t say, ar’s sure,” replied Pigg; “but, howsomever, there was Mr. Tail a rowlin’ this yean in, and varra heavy it was, and varra hot it made Mr. Tail, se I took and gav it a shove along win him; and when we’d getten it placed to liia likin’, ar seed a vast o’ sand, and gravel, and rubbish, lyin’ about o’ barn floor like, se ar axed him what it was all for” —
“And what did he say?” eagerly inquired Mr. Jorrocks, darting to a conclusion.
“Why,” said Pigg, turning the quid in his mouth, “he brak out just as ye de — talked about new leets [lights], old-fashioned farmin’, and march o’ somethin’. Then he pointed at the sugar, and says he to me, says he, ‘ Ar’ll be bound to say, Mr. Pigg,’ says he, ‘with all your north country knowledge, you can’t tell me what that’s for.’ So, says ar to him, says ar, ‘Ye have the advantage of me, Mr. Tail’” —— —
“Just so,” observed Mr. Jorrocks; adding, “well, go on.”
“Why, then,” said Pigg, “he tell’d me he’d been to a lector on farmin’ some chap ganning about the country, talkin’ nonsense, had given, who’d tell’d him of a grand imposition for” —
“Composition!” observed Mr. Jorrocks, with an emphasis.
“Ay, grand composition,” continued Pigg, “for makin’ tiles — drainin’ tiles. Ar doesn’t ken how mony things had to be put into it, but there was chark, and sand, and gravel, and I doesn’t ken what else, and the whole had to be mexed and stirred up wi’ brown sugar.”
“Vot a jackass the chap must be!” grunted Mr. Jorrocks, wondering how Mr. Heavytail ever could be so foolish as to adopt the idea.
“Why, that’s just what ar said,” observed Pigg. “Says ar to Mr. Tail, say ar, ‘Ye surely mun be gannin’ clean daft, Mr. Tail, to think o’ wastin’ the sugar in this way. Hev ye ne quarry, nor ne gravel bed, nor ne place nigh at hand, where ye can get steans, instead of makin’ sich a mess as this?’ But I might as well ha’ saved my breath, for aril ar gat was sarce and bad words.”
“Oh dear! Mr.’Eavytail must be a werry stupid man,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, wondering how a tenant of his could have fallen into a trap he had only set for other people.
“Why, that’s what ar telled him,” said Pigg; “says ar te him, says ar, ‘Thou may fancy thysel a wise man, and may be ye may fancy the chap that tell’d ye all this a wise man; but for mar pairt, ar should say, it wad be hard to say whether on ye’s the bigger feul.’”
“Did you, indeed?” exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks, wondering if Mr. Heavytail floored him. —
“Faith did ar,” said Pigg, striking his staff against the ground—” them was just the varra words ar used — hard to say whether on ye’s the bigger feul.”
“And vot did he say?” asked Mr. Jorrocks.
“Why, he just glowered, and garped, and grinned, and talked about the new leets in husbandry, and said, ar was a lang way ahint the information of the day — that this was the newest London invention, and that the newest things always cam frae there, and that Lunnuners knew mair than all other folks put together.”
“Veil, and what did you say?” continued Mr. Jorrocks, still anxious to hear all about it.
“Why, ar said, ar thought nou’t o’ Lunnuners — that they might de varry well for makin’ women’s bonnets, and sich like; but as for makin’ drainin’ tiles, or kennin’ ou’t about farmin’, ar wadn’t give a button-top for all their heads put tegither.”
“Humph!” grunted Mr. Jorrocks; adding, “well, Mr.’Eavytail certainlie is a bigger fool nor I took him for. Three ‘ogs’eads o’ sugar, and, very likely, not got at our place either! The man’ll be ruined!”
“Ye’ll be lossin’ your rent,” observed Pigg; adding, “it ar’nt possible for a man te farm i’ that way and pay rent tee.”
“I ‘opes I shalln’t lose the rent,” observed Mr. Jorrocks—” can’t afford to do that, howsomever; precious little one gets as it is — land-ownin’s a werry poor trade.”
“It mun be poor the way yeer folks gan on,” rejoined Pigg. “Sink, thou’s not much better nor Heavytail thysel. It’s nabbut t’other day like, I came upon old Tommy Sloggers, hangin’ his great beastly brandy-bibbin’ neb over the yeat, gannin’ into his faller, his coat all stains, his breeches loose at the knees, his stockins’ hangin’ down, and the land as chock full o’ weeds and dirt as ever it could haud. ‘Well, Mr. Sloggers,’ said ar, ‘admirin’ yeer weeds! admirin’ yeer weeds! ye’ll have a grand crop, ar expect — you’ve much to be prud on — ye’ll not be disappointed in nettles, whatever ye are i’ the wheat.”Hoot, ye fond boddy,’ said he, quite sarcy like, ‘what do ye knaw about farmin’? Ye’re nou’t but a boole leader!’
‘Why, why,’ said I, ‘ar can tell a dirty faller from a clean ‘un, however; and, of all dirty fallers that iver ar set eyes on, yeers is the dirtiest.” Ay, but stop till wor Squire’s new invention comes on it,’ said he, with a wink of his blear eye, ‘and ye’ll see how clean it’ll be.”What invention?’ said I. ‘ Ah, what a man thou is to talk o’ farmin’!’ said he; ‘hasn’t thou heard tell of our landlord’s grand machine for doin’ all farmin’-work at once — ploughin’, cleanin’, sowin’, harrowin’, reapin’! Hoot, get away wi’ ye!’ said he; ‘get yeer boole out; ye’re mair at heam wi’ him nor ou’t else.’”
“Ay,” said Mr. Jorrocks, “but I didn’t say nothin’ about weedin’; besides, it was a mere speckilation altogether, and I never said nothin’ about when the machine would be ready, or who I would lend it to, or nothin’.”
“But then, ye see, the warst o’ ye grand folks talkin’ is that chaps like Sloggers just tak haud of as much o’ yeer jaw as sarves their torn, and then, if things dinna gan right, they say it’s yeer fault that ye telled them, and that they mun have a reduction o’ rent. Now, Sloggers won’t clean his land; and he’ll say, thou tell’d him not, and that he kept it to try thy engine on.”
“I’ll Sloggers him, if he does,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, with a shake of the head—” besides,” added he, “I’m sure I never said nothin’ about the machine cleanin’ land — didn’t know land required cleanin’, indeed,” added he, aloud to himself.
“But ye may depend, Sloggers ‘ill look to ye for satisfaction,” rejoined Pigg.
“Humph!” grunted Mr. Jorrocks, thinking he wouldn’t get it.
Master and man trudged on some time in silence, each occupied with his respective thoughts, Mr. Jorrocks considering whether, as “scientific farming” seemed likely to be expensive, he had better employ Pigg to undeceive the people, and Pigg muttering anathemas and strange oaths against dung-doctors, man-doctors, horse-doctors, cow-doctors, and all sorts of doctors. At length they came to the boundary wall through which, our readers will remember, Mr. Jorrocks had squeezed, leaving his cob on the far side.
“We mun be o’er here,” said Pigg, striding up to the wall, and laying a hand on the top.
“That’s easier said nor done,” replied Mr. Jorrocks, eyeing its great height. “Better return the way I came, I thinks,” added he, looking about for a place.
“Ah, ye’ll seun get o’er!” replied Pigg; “it’s nou’t of a wall.”
“Isn’t it?” replied Mr. Jorrocks, as much as to say, “it is to me.”
“Stick yeer toe in it like a man!” rejoined Pigg, placing his own on a projecting stone, to show his master the way.
Mr. Jorrocks tried, but down it slipped again. It wouldn’t do. —
“God sink, t’ard man’s gettin’ numb!” growled Pigg, as, lowering himself, he came to his master’s assistance. “Here, now,” continued he, “put thy foot in there,” said he, showing his master the place, “and then give thysel a good hoist, and thou’ll soon he atop.”
Mr. Jorrocks did as desired; but the hoist was a very ineffectual one. He did not even get his hat-crown level w
ith the top of the wall.
“Try again!” exclaimed Pigg; adding, “give a good loup.”
“Ah, ‘non sum qualis erarn!’” said Mr. Jorrocks, with a strong accent on the “ram” — as he made a still more ineffectual effort than the first.
“Hoot, a ram wad think nou’t of such a wall!” muttered Pigg; adding, “come now, put thy toe in again, and ar’ll give ye a shove up ahint.” —
Mr. Jorrocks obeyed the order, and, with the aid of a strong hoist from Pigg’s shoulder, succeeded in landing on the top. Pigg was quickly beside him, and master and man dropped down into the enclosure, where the shepherd was still pacing leisurely about with Dickey Cobden.
“Fatch him this way!” roared Mr. Jorrocks, waving his hat to the man; adding, “it’s as cheap ridin’ as walkin’.”
“When I’m rich, I rides in chaises;
When I’m poor, I walks like blazes.”
“You’ve had a long wait,” observed our friend, hoisting himself on, and giving the man a shilling for his trouble.’
Mr. Jorrocks then set off homewards. —
“Yell, Pigg,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, overtaking his man, who had gone striding on before, as he saw his master preparing to mount— “veil, Pigg,” repeated he, “I can’t get the idea of that unmitigated stoopid old’Eavytail and his sugar-casks out of my ‘ead. The man must be werry soft to swallow all he’s told — Lord! if they had him in London, ’ow they would rook him.”.
“Ar’s warn’d ye,” said Pigg— “they’re gay and sharp there;” adding, “but there are as big feuls as Heavytail hereabouts.”
“Possibly,” replied Mr. Jorrocks—” possibly; but that’s not the question.”
“Ar see’d a man t’other mornin’,” continued Pigg, without noticing his master’s observation, “pepperin’ the land, just as ye’d pepper a plate o’ cabbish. ‘God sink,’ said ar, ‘what’s thou about?”Giarnoin,’ said he. ‘Giarnoin!’ said ar, ‘what good can that de the land? — gan and get a few cartloads o’ muck, and keep the giarno for thy puddin’ — Muck’s your man!’ say I,” exclaimed Pigg at the top of his voice.
“Well, but one must do summut i’ this world to make oneself known,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, still anxious to put. matters right and propitiate his man in order to get Pigg to help him.
“Yarry true,” said Pigg; “varry true,” repeated he, filling his mouth with tobacco, and wiping the brown streams from his mouth with his sleeve; adding, “mun de summut to mak worsels conspikious — cannot all grow whiskers under our chins like Captain Bluster.”
“Well, but farmin’s quite the go, you see, jest now,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, “and it don’t do for us landlords to appear behind the tenants in information. If it wasn’t for the promotion o’ science I’m sure land-owning would never pay. Talk o’ money i’ the funds!” added he, “money i’ the funds may pay small interest; but blow me tight, funds pay punctual, and the gates never want repairin’.”
“Ar doesn’t knaw much about the funds,” replied Pigg “but thou’ll find the yeats a small matter i’ thy repair — mar cousin Deavilboger always said that ne man is fit to be called a farmer what isn’t a good grumbler.” —
“Faith, then, I’ve some uncommon good ‘uns,” replied Mr. Jorrocks, “for I never goes to inquire after the ‘ealth of the farmers’ wives, or the state o’ their ‘ouses, but I gets sick a torrent of complaints that I thinks that my ‘ouses must be all a tumblin’ down together. One’s roof rains in — another’s barn beams are rotten — a third’s ‘edges are all dead — a fourth’s pump’s gone wrong; and so they go on.”
“Ay, now, that’s jest the way ye cul chaps de,” replied Pigg; “ye seek for complaints. Instead o’ ridin’ into a man’s fard, and axin’ if his “barn’s watter-tight and his missis i’ the family way, ye should gan in ramin’ and swearin’ and blawin’ everybody up that comes in your way, and the man will be o’er glad to slip out the front way, and niver say nothin’ about repairs.”
“Ah, but the wives are far wuss nor the men!” exclaimed Mr. Jorrocks.
“Ay, that’s because you’re o’er kind wi’ them,” replied Pigg.
“Humph!” grunted Mr. Jorrocks, not relishing the answer. “Some of the men are so whimsical,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, thinking he might as well turn the conversation, “one sometimes wants exactly the reverse of another.”
“Ar’s warn’d ye,” said Pigg, “ar’s warn’d ye; some’ll want parlours made into kitchens, and other some, kitchens made into parlours. A parlour, i’ mar mind, is varra little use to a farmer. They aye shut them up and sit i’ their kitchens, or want a sort o’ second parlour to save the best; just like mar coosin Deavilboger. He grumbled and fund fault wi’ his ‘om’stead till the Squire rebuilt the whole on the largest and most improved plan — cost a sight o’ money; and when it was finished the Deavil shut up twe-thirds on it, sayin’ it was far o’er big for the farm.” —
“That’s the way they go on,” said Mr. Jorrocks, digging his heel into Dickey Cobden.
“There was Harry Grumble of Clottergate,” said Pigg, “wadn’t take his farm till the landlord would build him a porch to his front door, because he said he’d always been used to a porch, and he liked to see his missis sittin’ knittin’ in it when he came home half drunk frae the market; and se, what with his wishes and what with his wants, the landlord at last built one — cost the matter, ar dare say, of ten pounds. Well, Harry was so varra punctual i’ the drinkin’ way that he forgot to provide his rent, and the consequence was, he was soon bundled out again, and the farm was to let. John Brick was the man to take it; but nothin’ would sarve Brick but the porch should come down. He’d never been used to a porch, and didn’t like the look of a porch, so down cam porch again.”
“The beggar,” grunted Mr. Jorrocks.
“Jonas Hen’s pigs were aye on Mr. Blatherington’s coach-road,” continued Pigg, “and he swore till he was maist black i’ the face about it; but Hen persisted that the pigs must have room to wander about, for if they were kept cooped up i’ the sty, their legs wad get crook’d, and they’d want far mair meat, and so on. At last yean night the Squire was comin’ home either varra drunk or it was varra dark, for he tumbled over t’ard sow as she lay across road like. ‘ Sink it,’ said he i’ the mornin’, ‘I’ll build this ard beggar a new range of sties, with airin’ yards in front, for ar can’t stand splittin’ my kerseymeres i’ this way’ — just as you’ve done,” observed Pigg, looking at Mr. Jorrocks’s knees; “se at it he went — built an uncommon fine range of sties, with ar’s warn’d ye a quarter of a yacre of ground walled in; and when it was done, Squire Blatherington said to Hen, ‘ Now, Mr. Hen, ar hopes yeer pigs will have the kindness to keep off mar coach-road, for ar can’t stand them, and they’ve plenty of elbow-room and everything pigs should have in this spacious yard.”Ay, ay, sir,’ said Hen; ‘ but for mar pairt ar always think they’re just as well i’ the sty altogether.’ Queer devils, farmers,” added Pigg, replenishing his mouth with tobacco.
“They are that,” assented Mr. Jorrocks.
“The best way of stoppin’ their gabs,” said Pigg, “is gannin’ about the country with a great armful o’ plans; and as soon as ever a man begins with his wants, unroll the plan, and say you propose buildin’ his premises afresh and want to talk to him about the leadin’.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Mr. Jorrocks, with a nod— “a werry good idea.”
“Or if they talk about yeats [gates] say there’s yeat wood provided, and they’ve nothin’ to do but employ a joiner to work it up. They’ll make the ard ‘uns last a long while when they’ve to pay for makin’ the new ‘uns, and t’ard housin”ill stand tee if they’ve te lead to the new ‘un.”
“Ar wad say now,” observed Pigg, after a long pause, during which he trudged on beside his master, “ instead o’ talkin’ nonsense to the farmers, and gettin’ them to try fond expariments, it wad be far better, if ye mun make yoursel conspikio
us, to train a few lads on, as they de i’ wor country, and gar them pay for yeer knowledge.”
“‘Ow’s that?” inquired Mr. Jorrocks, thinking it sounded like money. —
“Have what they call mud-students,” replied Pigg; “some of the great farmers i’ the north have them, and they pay well whether they larn ou’t or not.”
“Vot! a sort of an agricultural college, is it?” asked Mr. Jorrocks.
“No! college; no,” replied Pigg, “jest a youth or two i’ the ‘ouse, that you may give lectors to if you like.”
“Keep in the ‘ouse?” observed Mr. Jorrocks; “shouldn’t like that — be pulling the gals about, p’raps.”
“Ah, sink ye can de that yersel,” muttered Pigg. “If ye dinna like them i’ the house,” observed he, raising his voice, “ye can lodge them wi’ some o’ the tenants, and jest have them in when ye want to extonish them with your lamin’.”
“That’s more like the ticket,” thought Mr. Jorrocks aloud to himself; adding, “but wot am I to do with them on intermediate days, when I’m not a lectorin’, in fact?”
“Why, thou mun send them out into the fields to kick the clods about, and ax fond questions.”
“But they must ‘ave somebody to go with them, to answer them, and tell them wot’s wot.”
“Let them find out theirsels, they’ll like it far better if they de,” replied Pigg.
“That would hardly be fair, though; if one undertakes to instruct them, one ought to be as good as one’s word,” observed Mr. Jorrocks. “We shouldn’t ‘ave them in any numbers, though,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, “a lecturin’ to empty benches is werry poor sport.”
“Ay, but ye can get in the ard wives and bairns, anybody but the farmers,” replied Pigg; “there’s ne fear of misleadin’ t’ard women.”
“No, that won’t do,” observed Mr. Jorrocks, half to Pigg, half to himself. “If they’d have the agricultural college they talk of in the Mark Lane Express here, and make me principal, that would be summut like; but to tutorise a few bouys would never suit J. J.”