"I _am_ bothered, Crabtree. Give me a Scotch whisky, and we'll see if that will help me." Crabtree loitered about, as his habit was, after bringing the whisky. He finally came to rest against the window, pointing his meditations by an up-and-down motion of the straw between his teeth. "Well, how's the world?" asked Griff. "Nobbut sadly, sir, nobbut sadly. They tell us it's th' best world we've getten, but I niver did see how that helped a body. What wi' th' sheep lambing too forrard-like i' th' spring, an' th' frost taking half th' lambkins off, an' th' rain when I should hev been leäding my hay, an' th' drought when th' tummits wanted watter, an' th' wife slipping away under-sod fair at t' thrangest time she could ha' chosen--nay, it's a poor mak on a world, tak it how ye will. Thank ye, Mr. Lummax, I will hev a fill; baccy an' strong drink is all as us poor men can look to for comfort." "You're a fine hand at the grumbles, Crabtree. I warrant you've turned over a tidy penny this year, for all your growls. As to your wife, you've soon found another, eh?" There was the faintest trace of a smile at that corner of the landlord's mouth which was not occupied by the straw; but the rest of his face was expressive of sad rebuke. "It's easy to jest, sir, when ye've getten the lump of your troubles afore ye. She war a grand lass, th' first 'un, an' niver a wrang word between us, save when it jumped out accidental-like. But what can a feckless man do wi' a public on his hands, an' none to see to th' sarving-maid, an' th' washing, an' th' cooking? I've nowt agen t' other missuses, ye'll understand, but they're more, as a man might say, i' th' way o' meät an' drink--a thing 'at cannot be done without. But th' first wife--it war more i' th' way of a pleasure, like, nor a business, my marrying her. Well, well, it's up an' it's down i' this life, an' afore ye've rightly getten used to one position, ye're shifted to t' other. My head fair swims, whiles, when I fall to thinking o' th' whirligig." Griff's eyes had wandered from his host to the half-dozen bills of sale that lined the opposite wall. "I say, Crabtree!" he interrupted; "I didn't know Gorsthwaite Hall was for sale. Have you noticed that bill up there--the middle one?" "I can't say as I hev, sir. They come an' they go, does farms--like wives, in a manner o' speaking--an' a man gets ower used to th' shiftings to pay much heed to 'em." Crabtree moved to the printed sheet and slowly read out the contents. "Mr. Crowther Crowther is honoured, by the executors of the late Thomas Widdop, with instructions to sell that valuable freehold property known as Gorsthwaite Hall, with all the farm buildings, implements, live and dead stock, as under." Then followed a list of horses, heifers, cows in calf, waggons, turnip and hay choppers, and the like; and an exposition of the agricultural merits of the "Three closes of land adjoining thereto, comprising in all about thirty acres."