Cradock Nowell: A Tale of the New Forest. Vol. 1 (of 3)Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
General
Cradock Nowell: A Tale of the New Forest. Vol. 1 (of 3)
Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
New Forest (England : Forest) -- Fiction
“Oh, Master Crad, dear Master Crad, whatever are you going to do?
Donʼt, for good now, donʼt, I beg on you. Hearken now; doʼee hearken to
an old man for a minute”. And he caught him by both arms to stop him,
with his tremulous, wrinkled hands.
“O Hoggy, dear, kind Hoggy! you are about the only one left to care
about me now”.
“No, donʼt you say that, Master Crad; donʼt you say that, whatever you
do. Whoever tell you that, tell a lie, sir. It was only last night Mrs.
Toaster, and cook, and Mrs. OʼGaghan, the Irishwoman, was round the
fire boiling, and they cried a deal more than they boiled, I do assure
you they did, sir. And Mr. Stote, he come in with some rabbits, and he
went on like mad. And the maids, so sorry every one of them, they canʼt
be content with their mourning, sir; I do assure you they canʼt. Oh,
donʼt ’ee do no harm to yourself, donʼt ’ee, Mr. Cradock, sir”.
“No, Hoggy”, said Cradock, taking his hands; “you need not fear that
now of me. I have had very wicked thoughts, but God has helped me over
them. Henceforth I am resolved to bear my trouble like a man. It is the
part of a dog to run, when the hoot begins behind him. Now, take this
little box, and this key, and give them yourself to Sir Cradock Nowell.
It is the last favour I shall ask of you. I am going away, my dear
old friend; donʼt keep me now, for I must go. Only give me your good
wishes; and see that they mind poor Caldo: and, whatever they say of me
behind my back, you wonʼt believe it, Job Hogstaff, will you”?
Job Hogstaff had never been harder put to it in all his seventy years.
Then, as he stood at the open door to see the last of his favourite,
he thought of the tall, dark womanʼs words so many years ago. “A
bonnie pair ye have gat; but yeʼll ha’ no luck o’ them. Tak’ the word
of threescore year, yeʼll never get no luck o’ ’em”.
Cradock turned aside from his path, to say good–bye to Caldo. It would
only take just a minute, he thought, and of course he should never see
him again. So he went to that snuggest and sweetest of kennels, and in
front of it sat the king of dogs.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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