As it was mid-afternoon, I could only compose myself till nightfall. I
accompanied the farmer to the hay-field and saw the working of his
mowing-machine, a rare implement in England, as most of the grass is
still cut by hand, and raked by hand also. The disturbed skylarks were
hovering above the falling grass, full of anxiety for their nests, as
one may note the bobolinks on like occasions at home. The weather is so
uncertain in England, and it is so impossible to predict its complexion,
not only from day to day but from hour to hour, that the farmers appear
to consider it a suitable time to cut grass when it is not actually
raining. They slash away without reference to the aspects of the sky,
and when the field is down trust to luck to be able to cure the hay, or
get it ready to "carry" between the showers. The clouds were lowering
and the air was damp now, and it was Saturday afternoon; but the farmer
said they would never get their hay if they minded such things. The farm
had seen better days; so had the farmer; both were slightly down at the
heel. Too high rent and too much hard cider were working their effects
upon both. The farm had been in the family many generations, but it was
now about to be sold and to pass into other hands, and my host said he
was glad of it. There was no money in farming any more; no money in
anything. I asked him what were the main sources of profit on such a
farm.
"Well," he said, "sometimes the wheat pops up, and the barley drops in,
and the pigs come on, and we picks up a little money, sir, but not much,
sir. Pigs is doing well naow. But they brings so much wheat from
Ameriky, and our weather is so bad that we can't get a good sample, sir,
one year in three, that there is no money made in growing wheat, sir."
And the "wuts" (oats) were not much better. "Theys as would buy hain't
got no money, sir." "Up to the top of the nip," for top of the hill, was
one of his expressions. Tennyson had a summer residence at Blackdown,
not far off. "One of the Queen's poets, I believe, sir." "Yes, I often
see him riding about, sir."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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