134 CHRONICLES OF A CLAY FARM. 



wheels, pressing the other rider pretty close to the 

 ditch, as the wagon passed on before them " there 

 you go Mr. Cropfield with your new wheat and your 

 Straw again ! I wonder how many sacks to the acre 

 you've grown upon last year's Oat-stubble this time ! 

 Do look at the boultings, Sir ! That's for litter for the 

 team I suppose ! He's late to market with that load ; 

 no wonder the' go so fast. Well, if it ain't enough 

 to make an honest head ache to see that !" added 

 the indignant farmer, in a tone of unusual sarcasm. 

 "That's what I call taking the new-laid eggs to 

 market, and the hen along" 



" Wheat on an Oat stubble ! He brings back 



manure, I suppose ?" 



" Ay, for the Barley-crop ; or Oats again, may be : 

 it's all the same : he counts back'ards ; he begins with 

 the grain, and ends with no he never comes to the 

 green. He says stems pay quicker than roots ; and 

 Stock 's expensive ; so he starts at once with the high 

 figures though, my life ! 'tis but a low 'un now, for 

 that matter. Do you think, Sir, it'll ever get up 

 again ?" 



" The old question again ! I'm afraid, Greening, 

 you'd never hear out the answer, even if I could give 

 it. Sharp questioners are impatient listeners." 



