She performed her toilet hastily and somewhat perfunctorily, and when at
last a sleepy-looking red-haired man came slouching up the lane which led
to the farm, he was surprised to see a figure in rustling print and
broad-brimmed chip hat standing in the midst of a bevy of cocks and hens,
scattering handfuls of grain with wide impetuous sweeps of a round,
vigorous arm.
‘Hallo! What’s the hurry, Sukey?’ he inquired pleasantly.
But the face which was flashed upon him was not the rosy and somewhat
vacant one of Susan, but belonged to no less a person than Missus
herself.
‘What’s the hurry, Job?’ she repeated severely. ‘I should like to know
why there is n’t a little more hurry? What has become of all the men?
Has anybody gone to fetch the cows? What is everyone about, I say?’
Job tilted his hat a little sideways on his red locks, the better to
scratch his head, and gazed at his mistress with a puzzled and somewhat
scandalised expression.
‘Ye must expect things to be a bit onreg’lar for a bit, mum,’ he
remarked. ‘Seein’ the loss we’ve had, and us all bein’ so upset like
about poor master, we ha’n’t a-got the ’eart to go about our work as if
nothin’ had happened. It bain’t to be looked for. Nay now,’ he
continued mildly, ‘an’ we did n’t look to find yerself a-goin’ about this
way—we did n’t, sure. It scarce seems nait’ral. If I may make so bold
as to say so, it do seem’—here Job fixed an expostulatory glance on the
angry young face that was confronting him—‘it d’ seem scarce right, mum.’
‘Job Hunt,’ returned his mistress haughtily, ‘you are not called upon to
make remarks upon my actions; but I will tell you so much: it is my duty
to see that the work in this place is properly done, and I intend that it
shall be properly done. Go and call the other men at once. Tell them if
they are ever again so disgracefully late they shall all be fined. Call
them quickly,’ she added with an imperative tap of the foot, ‘and then go
and fetch the cows.’
As she turned to re-enter the house she caught sight of Susan, who was
evidently exchanging astonished and depreciatory grimaces with Job, while
Mrs. Greene, in the background, was raising hands and eyes to heaven.
‘Come, get to work,’ she cried sharply. ‘Skim the cream, Susan; and you,
Jane, get the churn ready. Well, Mrs. Greene, what are you staring at?
Have you never seen me work before, that the fact of my turning up my
sleeves need astonish you so much? I suppose you can find something to
do about the house. Give me that other skimmer, Jane.’
‘Ho dear, yes, mum, I can find a plenty to do about this here house. I
wur but a-lookin’ at you, mum, because it do really seem a’most too much
for flesh an’ blood to be a-takin’ on itself as you be a-takin’ on
yourself now, mum. Dear, yes! but it’s to be hoped as ye won’t overtax
your constitootion, Mrs. Fiander.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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