110 NATURE IN DOWNLAND 



other country : lie did not kno-w -where he was, and 

 never expected to see him again. Bit by bit he told 

 me more of his story. There were two — himself, not 

 nine, and a little brother, too Uttle to go to school. 

 They lived with a woman who took care of them in a 

 cottage a couple of miles from the village. His mother, 

 left to provide for herself and children, had gone into 

 service at Brighton. She worked very hard and kept 

 them well clothed. He would see her at Christmas, and 

 be with her a whole week ; that would be a happy time. 

 Then I remarked tentatively, " I suppose it was drink 

 that caused the trouble." " Oh no," he returned 

 quickly ; " father did not drink — he was not a man of 

 that sort. Father was not a bad man. I should like 

 to see him again, but he will never come back." Then 

 I said, determined to get at the bottom of the affair : 

 " If your father was not bad, and loved his children, why 

 did he go away and throw this burden on your poor 

 mother and cause all this sorrow ? " He was silent for 

 a few moments, and then, with all the gravity in the 

 world, he replied, " It was an upset," and beyond that 

 not one word would he say. If I had given him sUver 

 and gold, it would not have unlocked his firm little lips. 

 That Httle word upset is an exceedingly useful one 

 in the peasant's limited vocabulary, and covers a great 

 variety of domestic infelicities in which the passion of 

 anger plays a part, from the trivial disagreements be- 

 tween husband and wife which will be forgotten before 

 the sun sets, to the tragedy that severs all sacred ties 



