An Old English Home and Its DependenciesBaring-Gould, S. (Sabine)
History
An Old English Home and Its Dependencies
Baring-Gould, S. (Sabine)
England -- Social life and customs
_Enter_ WARNER.
"_Warner._ Your honour is right welcome into Kent. I am proud to see
Sir Charles Cropland on his estate again. I hope you mean to stay on
the spot for some time, Sir Charles?
"_Sir Chas._ A very tedious time. Three days, Mr. Warner.
"_Warner._ Ah, good sir! I wish you lived entirely upon the estate,
Sir Charles.
"_Sir Chas._ Thank you, Warner; but modern men of fashion find it
devilish difficult to live upon their estates.
"_Warner._ The country about you is so charming!
"_Sir Chas._ Look ye, Warner, I must hunt in Leicestershire--for
that's the thing. In the frosts and the spring months I must be in
town at the clubs--for that's the thing. In summer I must be at the
watering-places--for that's the thing. Now, Warner, under these
circumstances, how is it possible for me to reside upon my estate?
For my estate being in Kent----
"_Warner._ The most beautiful part of the country----
"_Sir Chas._ Curse beauty! My estate being in Kent----
"_Warner._ A land of milk and honey!----
"_Sir Chas._ I hate milk and honey.
"_Warner._ A land of fat!
"_Sir Chas._ Damn your fat! Listen to me. My estate being in Kent----
"_Warner._ So woody!----
"_Sir Chas._ Curse the wood! No, that's wrong--for it's convenient. I
am come on purpose to cut it.
"_Warner._ Ah! I was afraid so! Dice on the table, and then, the axe
to the root! Money lost at play, and then, good luck! the forest
groans for it.
"_Sir Chas._ But you are not the forest, and why the devil do you
groan for it?
"_Warner._ I heartily wish, Sir Charles, you may not encumber the
goodly estate. Your worthy ancestors had views for their posterity.
"_Sir Chas._ And I shall have views for my posterity. I shall take
special care the trees shan't intercept their prospect. In short, Mr.
Warner, I must have three thousand pounds in three days. Fell timber
to that amount immediately."
A singular circumstance happened some years ago. I was told it by a
timber merchant who was on the spot.
A respectable nobleman died, leaving a scapegrace son to inherit his
title, estates, and wealth.
It was then that the Jews came down like vultures on the heir. They had
lent him money on post-obits; and there was not enough to satisfy them.
Accordingly the mandate went forth for the cutting-down and sale of the
magnificent timber in the park--trees of centuries' growth.
The day of the sale arrived, and timber merchants had gathered from
far and near, and the auctioneer was about to begin the sale of the
trees--standing in their majesty. "By heaven!" said the dealer to me,
"it made my heart ache to see them--the trees themselves looked like
nobles--I say it made my heart ache, though I hoped to profit by them
too."
Well, just as the sale began a telegraphic messenger came galloping up
with an orange envelope.
The earl had shot himself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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