Peters Mother | Page 4

says they du take it by turns zo long as daylight du last, tu
spy out wi' their microscopes, are zum zuch, as none of Sir Timothy's
volk git tarking down this ways. A drop o' my zider might git tu their
'yeds," said the landlord, sarcastically, "though they drinks Sir
Timothy's by the bucket-vull up tu Barracombe."
"'Tis stronger than yars du be," said Happy Jack. "There baint no warter
put tu't, Joe Gudewyn. The warter-varl be tu handy vur yure brewin'."
"Zum of my customers has weak 'yeds, 'tis arl the better for they," said
Goodwyn, calmly.
"Then charge 'em accardin', Mr. Landlord, charge 'em accardin', zays I.
Warter doan't cost 'ee nart, du 'un?" said Happy Jack, triumphantly.
"'Ere be the doctor goin' on in's trap, while yu du be tarking zo," said
the ploughman. "Lard, he du be a vast goer, be Joe Blundell."
"I drove zo vast as that, and vaster, when I kip a harse," said the
road-mender, jealously. "'Ee be a young man, not turned vifty. I mind
his vather and mother down tu Cullacott befar they was wed. Why
doan't he go tu the war, that's what I zay?"
"Sir Timothy doan't hold wi' the war," said the landlord.
"Mar shame vor 'un," said Happy Jack. "But me and Zur Timothy, us
made up our minds tu differ long ago. I'm arl vor vighting
vurriners--Turks, Rooshans, Vrinchmen; 'tis arl one tu I."

"Why doan't 'ee volunteer thyself, Vather Jack? Thee baint turned
nointy yit, be 'ee?" said a labourer, winking heavily, to convey to the
audience that the suggestion was a humorous one.
"Ah, zo I wude, and shute Boers wi' the best on 'un. But the
Governmint baint got the zince tu ax me," said Happy Jack, chuckling.
"The young volk baint nigh zo knowing as I du be. Old Kruger wuden't
ha' tuke in I, try as 'un wude. I be zo witty as iver I can be."
Dr. Blundell saluted the group before the inn as he turned his horse to
climb the steep road to Barracombe.
No breath of wind stirred, and the smoke from the cottage chimneys
was lying low in the valley, hovering over the river in the still air.
A few primroses peeped out of sheltered corners under the hedge, and
held out a timid promise of spring. The doctor followed the red road
which wound between Sir Timothy's carefully enclosed plantations of
young larch, passed the lodge gates, which were badly in need of repair,
and entered the drive.
CHAPTER II
The justice-room was a small apartment in the older portion of
Barracombe House; the low windows were heavily latticed, and faced
west.
Sir Timothy sat before his writing-table, which was heaped with papers,
directories, and maps; but he could no longer see to read or write. He
made a stiff pretence of rising to greet the doctor as he entered, and
then resumed his elbow-chair.
The rapidly failing daylight showed a large elderly, rather pompous
gentleman, with a bald head, grizzled whiskers, and heavy plebeian
features.
His face was smooth and unwrinkled, as the faces of prosperous and
self-satisfied persons sometimes are, even after sixty, which was the

age Sir Timothy had attained.
Dr. Blundell, who sat opposite his patient, was neither prosperous nor
self-satisfied.
His dark clean-shaven face was deeply lined; care or over-work had
furrowed his brow; and the rather unkempt locks of black hair which
fell over it were streaked with white. From the deep-set brown eyes
looked sadness and fatigue, as well as a great kindness for his
fellow-men.
"I came the moment I received your letter," he said. "I had no idea you
were back from London already."
"Dr. Blundell," said Sir Timothy, pompously, "when I took the very
unusual step of leaving home the day before yesterday, I had resolved
to follow the advice you gave me. I went to fulfil an appointment I had
made with a specialist."
"With Sir James Power?"
"No, with a man named Herslett. You may have heard of him."
"Heard of him!" ejaculated Blundell. "Why, he's world-famous! A new
man. Very clever, of course. If anything, a greater authority. Only I
fancied you would perhaps prefer an older, graver man."
"No doubt I committed a breach of medical etiquette," said Sir Timothy,
in self-satisfied tones. "But I fancied you might have written your
version of the case to Power. Ah, you did? Exactly. But I was
determined to have an absolutely unbiassed opinion."
"Well," said Blundell, gently.
"Well--I got it, that's all," said Sir Timothy. The triumph seemed to die
out of his voice.
"Was it--unsatisfactory?"

"Not from your point of view," said the squire, with a heavy jocularity
which did not move the doctor to mirth. "I'm bound to say he
confirmed your