Dick o the Fens | Page 4

a big drain is cut right through the low fen, it will carry off all the water; and where now there's nothing but peat, we can get acres and acres of good dry land that will graze beasts or grow corn."
"Yes, that's fine enough, squire," said Tom's father; "but what will the fen-men say?"
"I don't care what they say," cried the squire hotly. "There are about fifty of us, and we're going to do it. Will you join?"
"Hum!" said Tom Tallington's father, taking his long clay-pipe from his lips and scratching his head with the end. "What about the money?"
"You'll have to be answerable for a hundred pounds, and it means your own farm worth twice as much, and perhaps a score of acres of good land for yourself."
"But it can't be good land, squire. There be twenty foot right down o' black peat, and nowt under that but clay."
"I tell you that when the water's out of it, James Tallington, all that will be good valuable land. Now, then, will you join the adventurers?"
"Look here, squire, we've known each other twenty year, and I ask thee as a man, will it be all right?"
"And I tell you, man, that I'm putting all I've got into it. If it were not right, I wouldn't ask you to join."
"Nay, that you wouldn't, squire," said Farmer Tallington, taking a good draught from his ale. "I'm saaving a few pounds for that young dog, and I believe in you. I'll be two hundred, and that means--"
"Twice as much land," said the squire, holding out his hand. "Spoken like a man, Master Tallington; and if the draining fails, which it can't do, I'll pay you two hundred myself."
"Nay, thou weant," said Farmer Tallington stoutly. "Nay, squire, I'll tak' my risk of it, and if it turns out bad, Tom will have to tak' his chance like his father before him. I had no two hundred or five hundred pounds to start me."
"Nor I," said the squire.
"May we talk now, father?" said Dick.
"Yes, if you like."
"Then," cried Dick, "I wish you wouldn't do it. Why, it'll spoil all the fishing and the 'coy, and we shall get no ice for our pattens, and there'll be no water for the punt, and no wild swans or geese or duck, and no peat to cut or reeds to slash. Oh, I say, father, don't drain the fen."
"Why, you ignorant young cub," cried the squire, "do you suppose you are always to be running over the ice in pattens, and fishing and shooting?"
"Well, no, not always," said Dick, "but--"
"But--get out with your buts, sir. Won't it be better to have solid land about us instead of marsh, and beef and mutton instead of birds, and wheat instead of fish?"
"No, I don't think so, father."
"Well, then, sir, I do," said the squire. "I suppose you wouldn't like the ague driven away?"
"I don't mind, father," said Dick laughing. "I never get it."
"No, but others do, and pains in their joints, and rheumatics. I say, Tallington, when they get as old as we are, eh?"
"Yes, they'll find out the difference, squire; but do you know, that's how all the fen-men'll talk."
"Let 'em," said the squire; "we've got leave from the king's magistrates to do it; and as for the fen-men, because they want to live like frogs all their lives, is that any reason why honest men shouldn't live like honest men should. There, fill up your pipe again; and as for the fen-men, I'll talk to them."
There was a bonny fire in the great open fireplace, for winter was fast coming on, and the wind that had been rushing across the fen-land and making the reeds rustle, now howled round the great ivy-clad chimney of the Hall, and made the flame and smoke eddy in the wide opening, and threaten every now and then to rush out into the low-ceiled homely room, whose well-polished oak furniture reflected the light.
The two lads sat listening to the talk of their elders, and after a time took up the work that had been lying beside them--to wit, some netting; but before Dick had formed many meshes he stopped to replenish the fire, taking some awkward-looking pieces of split root which were as red as mahogany, and placing them upon the top, where they began to blaze with a brilliant light which told tales of how they were the roots of turpentine-filled pines, which had been growing in the ancient forest that existed before the fen; and then taking from a basket half a dozen dark thick squares of dried peat and placing them round the flaming embers to keep up the heat.
"I say, Tom," said Dick in a low voice, "I don't think I should care to live here if the fen was