“But is it not a hard thing,” I persisted, “for a man who is born to a few acres to give them up? I do not pretend to justify Norton’s ambition. He might have been content as he was; but it must cost a man a severe struggle to part with his fifty or hundred acres when his fathers tilled them before him.” “I have no doubt of it, my dear. Such a man should consider what his plan of life is to be. If he has only himself to care for, and a little capital in his pocket, let him remain upon his land, keep it up, and improve it by the saving of his returns if he can. If he has not capital to do this, his duty to the public requires that he should not let his property degenerate. If he has a family to provide for, it becomes his duty to do his best for them—even at the expense of his pride, if need be.” “His pride should be,” said Mr. Malton, “to maintain his children in decency and comfort; this is a pride worth having.” “After all,” said my father, “it is not so much that a man loses his rank in these days by becoming a labourer, as that the employment of a labourer has become more honourable than formerly.” “There is one question more,” said I, “that I want to ask; and it is, why there should be a scarcity in a bad season, even if all our farms were small? If, in other countries, there is more corn grown than is wanted, why should not we supply ourselves from them? Would not it be a mutual advantage?” My father smiled as he replied, “You have no idea on what a wide subject your question touches. If I were to tell you all the whys and wherefores on that question, we should not have done by dinner-time.” “If you are getting upon the Corn Laws,” said Mr. Malton, “it is time I was wishing you good morning.” “Not till I have spoken to you about a little affair in which I want your advice,” said my father. “I will not detain you five minutes.” While they were talking, I endeavoured to discover what there was remarkable in my question. It seemed to me the simplest thing in the world that if there was too much corn in one country and too little in another, the want of the one should be supplied from the abundance of the other. While I was meditating, my father called out, “Come, Lucy, your horse is in a reverie as well as yourself, and we shall see you both fall presently, if you do not wake up. Mr. Malton says, ‘Good day,’ and we must make the best of our way home; so now for a canter.” We cantered till we reached the village. Miss Black’s window looked very gay at this time. She had been to M—— to see the fashions at the rooms of a milliner who had been to see the fashions in London. The caps and bonnets were of quite a new make; and there were smarter ribbons and flowers than I had ever seen at Brooke before. She had also another apprentice, and had lately enlarged her show-room. “I wonder what has happened to Miss Black!” I observed. “She really makes a grand display now.”