34 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



it rained and rained day after day until all was dung 

 again and the taters rotted in the ground. There 

 was nothing left but turnips. As good men as ever 

 lived and worked, half-starved, got out of hand, 

 stole and burned ; some of um went mad and wake 

 women and children died." 



This harrowing tale of suffering caused me to 

 wonder who, and where, the landlord was, and 

 it was on my tongue to ask the question loudly ; 

 but I managed to say so quietly that I surprised 

 myself: " Farmers surely could not pay rent in 

 such times." 



"Rent!" was the reply, " I doubt if there was 

 a guinea in all Chittlehampton parish. They were 

 all bought up for Boney and the zilver spent." 



"Did you say Chittlehampton?" I asked. 

 "Why! that was where my mother lived before 

 she married. Do you know Easticott ? " 



Grandfer had become excited and my double 

 question proved too much for him. He turned 

 upon me as if I were an apparition with a string 

 of questions: "Who be you? Who ded ye zay 

 yer mother was ? Do I know Easticott ? Did 

 I knaw Richard Crocker? We were like brithers 

 in them times and vought zide by zide. The poor 

 mad volks wid mostly listen t'un and stay their 

 devil's doings." 



Then came a silence during which I thought the 

 old man's soul communed with Dick's for there was 

 a whispered : " Zomebody be asking if I knawed 

 'ee Dick." The need of his lost handkerchief, dis- 

 covered by his granddaughter beneath his chair, 

 dispelled his dream and he asked: "What was 

 you zaying ? " 



