Chamberss Edinburgh Journal, No. 440 | Page 7

prosperous
yeoman.'
'Is that all you have seen in the papers?'
'Not much else. What, besides, have you found in them?'
'Wheat, at ten or eleven pounds a load--less perhaps--other produce in
proportion.'
'Ha!'
'I see further, Sharp, than you bookmen do, in some matters. Boney's
done for; that to me is quite plain, and earlier than I thought likely;
although I, of course, as well as every other man with a head instead of
a turnip on his shoulders, knew such a raw-head-and-bloody-bones as
that must sooner or later come to the dogs. And as I also know what
agricultural prices were before the war, I can calculate without the aid
of vulgar fractions, which, by the by, I never reached, what they'll be
when it's over, and the thundering expenditure now going on is stopped.
In two or three weeks, people generally will get a dim notion of all this;
and I sell, therefore, whilst I can, at top prices.'
The shrewdness of the calculation struck me at once. 'You will take
another farm when one can be had on easier terms than now, I
suppose?'
'Yes; if I can manage it. And I will manage it. Between ourselves, after
all the old man's debts are paid, I shall only have about nine or ten
hundred pounds to the good, even by selling at the present tremendous
rates; so it was time, you see, I pulled up, and rubbed the fog out of my
eyes a bit. And, hark ye, Master Sharp!' he added, as we rose and shook
hands with each other--'I have now done playing with the world--it's a
place of work and business; and I'll do my share of it so effectually,
that my children, if I have any, shall, if I do not, reach the class of
landed gentry; and this you'll find, for all your sneering, will come
about all the more easily that neither they nor their father will be

encumbered with much educational lumber. Good-by.'
I did not again see my old school-fellow till the change he had
predicted had thoroughly come to pass. Farms were everywhere to let,
and a general cry to parliament for aid rang through the land. Dutton
called at the office upon business, accompanied by a young woman of
remarkable personal comeliness, but, as a very few sentences betrayed,
little or no education in the conventional sense of the word. She was the
daughter of a farmer, whom--it was no fault of hers--a change of times
had not found in a better condition for weathering them. Anne Mosely,
in fact, was a thoroughly industrious, clever farm economist. The
instant Dutton had secured an eligible farm, at his own price and
conditions, he married her; and now, on the third day after the wedding,
he had brought me the draft of lease for examination.
'You are not afraid, then,' I remarked, 'of taking a farm in these bad
times?'
'Not I--at a price. We mean to rough it, Mr Sharp,' he added gaily. 'And,
let me tell you, that those who will stoop to do that--I mean, take their
coats off, tuck up their sleeves, and fling appearances to the
winds--may, and will, if they understand their business, and have got
their heads screwed on right, do better here than in any of the uncleared
countries they talk so much about. You know what I told you down at
Romford. Well, we'll manage that before our hair is gray, depend upon
it, bad as the times may be--won't we, Nance?'
'We'll try, Jem,' was the smiling response.
They left the draft for examination. It was found to be correctly drawn.
Two or three days afterwards, the deeds were executed, and James
Dutton was placed in possession. The farm, a capital one, was in Essex.
His hopes were fully realised as to money-making, at all events. He and
his wife rose early, sat up late, ate the bread of carefulness, and
altogether displayed such persevering energy, that only about six or
seven years had passed before the Duttons were accounted a rich and
prosperous family. They had one child only--a daughter. The mother,

Mrs Dutton, died when this child was about twelve years of age; and
Anne Dutton became more than ever the apple of her father's eye. The
business of the farm went steadily on in its accustomed track; each
succeeding year found James Dutton growing in wealth and importance;
and his daughter in sparkling, catching comeliness--although certainly
not in the refinement of manner which gives a quickening life and
grace to personal symmetry and beauty. James Dutton remained firm in
his theory of the worthlessness of education beyond what, in a narrow
acceptation of the term, was absolutely 'necessary;' and Anne Dutton,
although now heiress to very considerable