" Rub Up Your Glasses " 



249 



and then, madam altered her tone towards me. 

 There ! I won't say another word against her, 

 for she has worked me a comfortable pair of 

 slippers, and always manages to keep a clean 

 pipe and a stock of tobacco in the house for 

 me. She doesn't do much work, it's true, 

 for she hasn't got the strength ; but she makes 

 the girls do theirs, so that's as well. She's 

 too proud to take the butter to market, as her 

 mother used to do ; but she gets more for it 

 by sending it to the grocer's than ever her 

 mother could, though she tramped the whole 

 town over, so that's better. Besides, she 

 will have a nice little bit of money, I know, 

 when her father dies ; so perhaps, after all, 

 Master Jack might have gone further and fared 

 worse. It is he himself that I complain of 

 now, more than his wife. I never troubled 

 my head much about being master in the 

 house that I know of, but I always thought 

 till lately that I had a claim to that title out 

 of doors. But as soon as he was married 

 Master Jack began to think othenvise. He 

 rode about all over the farm, ordering the 

 men this way and that way, just as though he 

 were lord of all. There was no being up- 

 sides with him. If I mounted my old grey 

 cob, and rode up into a field to see whether 

 it was fit to sow or not, ten to one but I found 

 him there with the horses and tackle, and the 

 field half sown. And so it went on, till I 

 found everything taken out of my hands. And 

 when I took him to task about it, he turned 

 round upon me, and asked me what I meant 

 by trying to make him look little before his 

 family. Family, indeed ! two little babies 

 that can't talk plain yet. Now, if you don't 

 call this being shoved out of business I don't 

 know what you would call it. I 'm set aside 

 to rust just like an old plough, and that by 

 my own son, too. \¥hatever is coming over 

 the youngsters I can't think. They're all 

 alike. There's young Tom Steers, whose 

 father was a plain, homely man, and as good 



a neighbour as ever breathed ; he 's ten times 

 worse than my Jack. I havn't forgotten what 

 he said to me the other morning, and shan't 

 in a hurry. I was riding down the lane, going 

 to see an old friend, when who should over- 

 take me but Master Tom on a fine horse, and 

 dressed up in a smart pair of yellow cord 

 breeches, top-boots, and a velvet hunting-cap. 

 He said it was a fine day for the time of year. 

 " Yes," says I, " Master Tom, it is a fine day 

 — just such a one as I should think you ought 

 to be at home at work on. I can't see what 

 you can want a hunting such weather as this." 

 "Can't see! " says he ; "no, of course you can't. 

 You havn't been able to see clear for a long 

 time. I'll tell you what it is. Farmer John ; if I 

 were you, before I went any further I would go 

 home and rub up my glasses ;" and he spurred 

 his horse, and was out of sight in no time. 

 " Rub up my glasses, indeed." I couldn't 

 get the young dog's words out of my head the 

 whole day. I talked it over with my friend, 

 and he agreed with me that it was a shameful 

 thing for a boy like that to say to an old man 

 like me. " Rub up my glasses, forsooth," I 

 thought to myself, as I was riding home that 

 evening. " What ! am I getting near-sighted 

 or going blind, then, or what is it?" Rub 

 up my glasses ! I 've a very great mind to 

 say I would rub them up when I get home, 

 and go and look up Master Tom and some 

 of the rest of these clever young upstarts, and 

 try if I can find anything worth seeing amongst 

 them. Yes, that 's what I '11 do ; for, thanks 

 to Master Jack, I have nothing else to fill up 

 my time now. So I have rubbed up my 

 glasses, and am going on my search at once ; 

 and you may depend upon it, as soon as I 

 find anything worth speaking of, you shall 

 hear again from 



Yours, to command, 



Farmer John. 



Barley Farm. 



