FARMER TIBBALT. 95 



that like Maecenas, of old, he was ' doctus ser- 

 ' mones utriusque linguae."* He appeared, however, 

 ashamed of having shown his learning, and returned 

 immediately to his dogs and kine. He was an 

 extraordinary compound of contradictions. He 

 talked of persons of rank with contempt, while he 

 was flattered at any approaches they made to an 

 acquaintance with him. He affected to despise 

 learning, while it was evident that he had sedu- 

 lously cultivated it, and he dressed himself like a 

 sloven, while his servants appeared in the most 

 expensive liveries. He was, however, hospitable, 

 and a kind master, and understood the habits and 

 supplied the wants of his numerous labourers, who 

 looked up to him as a friend always ready to assist 

 them. I had a proof of this at a harvest-home to 

 which I was invited. Great numbers of peasants 

 had assembled, with their wives, children and rela- 

 tions. Tables were spread under sheds in the 

 farm-yard, which were profusely covered with meat 

 and puddings, together with a plentiful supply of 

 ale, on which Mr. Tibbalt prided himself much. 

 As soon as dinner was over, the host went round 

 the tables to enquire if every one was satisfied, and 

 this was the signal for drinking his health. One 

 of the principal labourers got up, and in a clear, 

 loud voice, sang the following lines, every one 

 joining in the chorus, which might have been 

 heard a mile off. 



